One That Stood Alone
by tsubasagahoushi
Summary: It's seventh year, and the war is ongoing. Harry has changed, but there doesn't seem to be anything Ron or Hermione can do about it, except hope he makes it out of everything alive. Little do they know, Harry's only enemy isn't just Voldemort. HD SLASH
1. Evasive Wounds

**Title:** One That Stood Alone  
  
**Author:** tsubasagahoushi  
  
**Pairings:** eventually Harry/Draco, Hermione/Ron, and maybe some more later on  
  
**Disclaimer:** I am a poor, poor college student who does not own anything... much less the rights to these characters. Those are all the great genius of J.K. Rowling and the respective publishers...  
  
**A/N:** So, this is my first Harry Potter fanfic. I really don't have much in thought for this right now, to be honest... so all commentary is good commentary! If there's anything in particular you'd like to see happen, feel free to suggest it because I very well may heed your thoughts! If anyone seems out of character, something is off in reference to the books, or anything at all just sounds wrong, feel free to let me know that too. I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

The light faded from the sky as the moon replaced the sun. Harry lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling for hours. It seemed to be all he could do this past summer. His eyes clouded over, the once gleaming emerald fading to a dull forest of green. Cedric was dead. Sirius was dead. Hagrid. Tonks. Neville. His eyes fell closed, the pain almost too much to bear. Countless others had perished once the war was declared last year. And nothing he did could save any of them.  
  
Harry let out a guttural sound- not a sob, nor a cry, but more of a pained growl. He sat up in his bed as Hedwig flew through the window, moonlight illuminating her silver feathers. She chirped and nipped at Harry's ear as she took her place on his shoulder, dropping yet another letter into his lap. Another letter from Hermione or Ron, surely going on about how nothing was Harry's fault, but they really couldn't tell him what was going on in the wizarding world right now. It was busy- there had been many attacks; that was all they had leaked out to him. Apparently, they felt it was in his best interests not to know lest he blame himself for these as well. Not only that, but Dumbledore must have made it quite clear that Harry was not to stray from the humble abode of the Dursley's since Ron constantly apologized for not inviting Harry over to the Burrow for the summer. His father was so busy at the Ministry, they couldn't take on another right now. His mother had a terrible cold, most contagious- deadly, even- and no one was to be near the house (he somehow forgot to mention how all the other Weasleys were surviving then). Fred and George were going insane with the new tricks they were learning in Auror training- really, Harry couldn't possibly survive the torture. Each letter, another excuse. Clutching the new letter in his hand, Harry threw it across the room. It swayed in the breeze from the window before lightly falling atop its fellow discarded letters and packages. Hedwig screeched in protest and flew across the room to settle near her perch, most disgruntled with Harry's behavior.  
  
He knew bloody well that there were attacks- not a day went by without his scar pulsating in a sick sort of pleasurable pain. Voldemort was happy- no, he was downright pleased. For several nights, even his occlumency training couldn't ward off the dreams of the Dark Lord. That was how Harry knew Neville was dead; he had been there when it had happened. He had been the one performing _Crucio_ again, and again, and again in the dream... Bile rose in Harry's throat and he pushed back the memories. Neville had not deserved it; he had done nothing to call for such a horrid way to such a short life. Nothing except aid one Harry Potter.  
  
He heard the chime of the new grandfather clock the Dursley's had bought last year in order to appear distinguished. On the twelfth ring, Harry pulled open the drawer near his bed. Metal flashed in the light streaming through the open window. Harry's eyelids fluttered closed, and his breath was drawn inward with a hiss. So tantalizing, this feeling of adrenaline as the blood poured down his wrist. A drop hit the worn wood floor, the sound echoing in Harry's ears. So... he was still alive, afterall.  
  
"Happy seventeenth birthday... Harry."

* * *

Draco swallowed thickly, his mouth bone dry. Head held high, he checked himself over in the mirror. Platinum blond hair fell across his ice blue eyes. He had allowed it to grow so that it spilled over his collar, grazing at his shoulders. Yet he refused to slick it back like his father. Instead it was perfectly styled to flow about him as he moved, never a strand going out of place unless he so willed it. Giving a shake of his head to move the strands from obscuring his vision, Draco steeled his jaw firmly. He had grown another few inches, putting him nearly at six feet. Nearly his father's height. But not nearly enough.  
  
There was a pop and the house elf appeared behind him. "Master Draco Malfoy, sir, Lady Malfoy requests your presence in the grand hall, sir." Draco merely nodded in response, never taking his eyes from the large mirror he stood in front of. He had donned his best robes of a raven black silk with Slytherin green lacing.  
  
"Master Draco Malfoy, sir..."  
  
"I bloody said I'd be there, already! Learn to read your master's responses as you should well know." His voice wavered at the end and he closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. He needed to calm himself; he needed to control the emotions which swirled within him into a poised conviction.  
  
"Yes, Master Draco, sir... Kriggins was just wanting to tell Master Malfoy, sir, that he believes in his master. Master Draco will be surviving Senior Master Malfoy, sir. Kriggins is sure of it."  
  
"Thank you, Kriggins. Now, please do run along before my father begins to wonder what is taking his precious son so long."  
  
There was another pop and Draco was left alone.  
  
"I'm glad at least one of us is sure..."

* * *

"Oh, I can't believe we're going to be having Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts taught by a top class Auror! And look at the book listing for it!"  
  
"Only you would be excited by the alarming amount of books needed for one subject. Really, I can't believe he actually assigned FIVE different ones just for one class! It's almost as bad as Lockehart!"  
  
"You could stand to read more on the subject, Ron. Last year, you barely were able to cast the Patronus charm even with Harry's extra help." Ron rolled his eyes and silenced Hermione with a quick kiss on the lips. Sixth year had brought about much turmoil and strife, but with it their relationship had bloomed and flourished.  
  
"Not as though the bloke could be any worse than Snape last year, eh Harry?"  
  
"What? Oh, right." Ron and Hermione turned to face Harry as they stumbled through Diagon Alley in a mad rush to get all their supplies before boarding the Express tomorrow. Harry didn't even attempt the frail smile he had clutched to all through sixth year. Instead, in its place was a constant slack expression reaching to the boy's eyes, extinguishing what little light had remained. Hermione moved away from Ron, reaching out one hand to touch Harry but stopping herself before she could.  
  
"Harry... we really are sorry. We couldn't bear to tell you; I had thought it would be better without you knowing..." The bitter laugh cut off her speech. She pulled back her outstretched hand as though burned. The Harry standing before her was not the one she remembered. Harry had become withdrawn last year, and with her and Ron's new relationship they didn't seem to spend as much time together anymore. Yet still, even last year Harry had managed to remain... well, _Harry_. He would smile when they asked how he was, insisting that he indeed was fine and that they needed to stop worrying so much. The person who stood before her now was someone completely different.  
  
Harry's hair was shaggier and somehow even more reckless and tousled than usual. It fell about his face, sticking up in the back almost as though it was styled that way. His skin was paler and she could have sworn he must have lost at least twenty pounds from his already lean build. He had grown considerably- almost stunning for his usually short stature- and was probably soon to reach six feet. Most obviously changed was his face. Harry was only seventeen, yet he seemed so aged, so worn. There were heavy bags beneath his eyes as though he hadn't slept in years and his eyes... His eyes had lost all spark and were mere orbs of full green set into his tired face.  
  
"Harry, mate, what's wrong with you? You haven't said more than a few words since we arrived at The Three Broomsticks yesterday, and now-"  
  
"Nothing. Nothing is wrong with me, Ron. Nothing at all." Before anymore could be said, Harry's back was to them and he was making his way to his room at The Three Broomsticks. Hermione let out a sigh and leaned back into her boyfriend for support.  
  
"Should we have told him, Ron? Should we have let him know how many more have gone... how many..." Hermione's voice was choaked with unshed tears and she was soon turned, her face pressed into the warmth of the red-headed boy's chest.  
  
"No, we... maybe... I don't know, Hermione. I don't know."


	2. Bleeding Heart

**Title:** One That Stood Alone  
  
**Author:** tsubasagahoushi  
  
**Pairings:** eventually Harry/Draco, Hermione/Ron, and maybe some more later on  
  
**Disclaimer:** I am a poor, poor college student who does not own anything... much less the rights to these characters. Those are all the great genius of J.K. Rowling and the respective publishers...  
  
**A/N:** Thanks to Andrew and NinjaBubble for the reviews! They make me work faster; I swear. So I have a sort of plan for this fic now, but it's still very vague. Commentary is loved and stored away in my heart for all eternity. If I effed up something real bad, lemme know that too.

* * *

"Can I sit here? Or would you like to brood alone- I know that's the usual way it's done afterall. Solitary act, really." Harry looked up to see Luna Lovegood standing at the compartment door. He couldn't help but give a small smile and shake of the head. Luna was still the oddball she had been in fifth year when he had first met her, but the girl had proved to be one of the few who could bring him out of his horrible moods. He supposed it was because she never expected him to force happiness, but rather would ask odd questions in order to steer conversation to a more inane and interesting topic.  
  
"Sure, Luna." She had already sat across from him before he had even replied. Didn't seem she truly cared whether he agreed to her presence or not.  
  
Turning his attention back to the scenery as it sped by, Harry allowed his eyes to unfocus and body slacken once again. He hadn't spoken to Ron or Hermione since yesterday when they were shopping. There would be no chance to speak to them now, either, since Hermione was Head Girl and had her own compartment- no doubt in which Ron was residing. Besides, Ron was prefect once more and so had to attend a short meeting on the train before arriving at the school. Harry had been offered the position last year, but had politely turned it down. Professor Dumbledore was right; he didn't need any more responsibilities.  
  
"Gone." Harry lifted his head, one eyebrow raised in inquiry at Luna's sudden observation. She stared at him for several minutes before glancing to the empty space in the rest of the compartment. Hogwarts' population was dwindling since the war, so it wasn't that difficult to find an empty compartment for oneself. "Your friends... Hermione Granger and..." she tilted her head to the side as if in thought. "Ronald Weasley. That's it. Weasley. Funny name; brings to mind the image of a weasel." Her eyes focused back on Harry and he couldn't help but stifle a tired laugh. Only Luna would draw the same conclusion to Ron as Draco Malfoy. "Where have they gone?"  
  
"Prior responsibilities." Harry gave the slightest shrug of his shoulders. "Probably snogging each other senseless, as well." Luna nodded at this, and took to examining the ceiling with the utmost concentration. Harry was about to continue his own concentrated stare on the passing scenery when he stopped himself. Luna would know- if anyone other than the Weasleys and Hermione knew about the deaths, it would be Luna. Her father was the editor of _The Quibbler_, afterall. The girl also seemed to have an almost odd fascination with the war since it had begun- as though she was taking it personally as well.  
  
"Luna..." She swayed her head back to face Harry, eyes wider than usual if that was at all possible. "I was wondering... could you tell me- well, that is- do you know who's died over the summer?" Harry wasn't the most subtle person, and even if he was it would be wasted on her. Just as usual, whenever the conversation turned to the war Luna's expression changed dramatically. Her eyes became hooded and her voice cold.  
  
"Neville Longbottom- pity, really... he was becoming a fine man. Your old professor... the Defense Against the Dark Arts one.. what was his name?" Harry felt his heart plummet into his stomach. Was this why Hermione and Ron hadn't told him? If Lupin was dead... Harry truly had no one left. When was the last time he had received a letter from him? Had there been any as of late? "Odd fellow... but he wasn't really the professor, was he? That's right. Sad Eye Sooty? No, that's not right..." Harry visibly collapsed back into his chair. The room was swimming and he vaguely heard Luna continue as though nothing was wrong at all. "Mad Eye Moody. That's right. Right."  
  
She went on to list the names of all those whom had died- even the muggles. Seventy-three total. There had been some losses on Voldemort's side, but not many. Among the remaining dead whom Harry knew was Viktor Krum. Perhaps that was why Hermione had become so upset. They had both kept in contact through the years, and he had joined the Order in hopes of getting closer to her. Viktor had also wanted to help Harry... he had said that it wasn't fair that one boy had to take it all on his own. Harry felt as though someone had forced a barrel of ash down his throat. Another name. Another loss. All because Harry Potter was too weak to end it when it should have been.  
  
The trolley came around and Luna bought several chocolate frogs, letting them jump about the compartment freely without even the inclination to eat them. Harry turned his gaze back on the scenery flashing by. A storm was brewing and the sky had darkened. A pleasant omen for their last year at Hogwarts.

* * *

"Harry Potter!" Harry knew that voice and could barely hold back the groan lodged in his throat. Dumbledore's twinkle was missing from the night's speech which was not a good sign. Ron and Hermione paused ahead, turning back to wait for Harry. He hadn't told them he was sorry for his outburst the other day, but they had sat near him during dinner which was something- even though there hadn't been one word said.  
  
"Go ahead. I'll catch up." Harry turned away from his two best friends before he could see the pained understanding in their eyes. He wasn't sure how much longer he could take it. If it wasn't pity, it was hope. Such desperate hope they all held for him. Hope that he couldn't even grasp himself.  
  
"Dumbledore would like to see me, I'm assuming, Professor." McGonagall nodded, placing one hand on Harry's shoulder. Funny how he remembered when she used to bend down to meet him, but now she had to tilt her head upwards slightly. Harry merely nodded once. It seemed Dumbledore always had something to tell him. Not that it ever made much of a difference. At least Dumbledore didn't have the desperate hope in his eyes like the others. He couldn't handle being the entire world's savior. He wasn't made for that; he was just Harry. Just Harry Potter, the sodding Boy Who Lived.  
  
"Mint Meltaway." The staircase appeared and Harry began the familiar climb. He heard hushed whispering and cleared his throat before entering the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore turned, the familiar, serene smile on his face. He was standing near the portraits of the previous headmasters whom all had decided to turn and stare at Harry simultaneously.  
  
"Come in, come in, Harry. Have a seat." Harry took his familiar place in the chair before Dumbledore's desk. He tried not to slouch completely into the chair, but it didn't hold the best of memories for him. Dumbledore swept behind his own desk, hesitating at a teapot on an elevated brass table. "Cup of tea?"  
  
"No, thank you, Professor. What was it you wished to speak to me about?" Dumbledore seemed to catch the curt tone in Harry's voice. The old man's smile faded and he sat in his own chair, folding his hands together and placing them across his chest.  
  
"Yes, yes. Understandable. Understandable, indeed. I take it you have found what has transgressed this summer?" Harry merely nodded. Not that he had been of any help; Harry was sure Dumbledore had dropped the hint to his friends that Harry need not know all that went on. No, especially not after what happened last year and the confrontation with the Dark Lord.  
  
"Harry, we have spoken of last year's... incident." Harry averted his gaze from the older man. He didn't want to hear this. It had been enough last year. Harry knew; he understood that his actions had been irrational and irresponsible. Couldn't have the precious boy of prophecy killed that soon, could we? "Under these circumstances, I wish for you to take additional training with the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor." Harry merely nodded. It wasn't as though he had a choice, and he was sure the extra training could be of use.  
  
"Yes, Professor." Dumbledore nodded gravely, and Harry stood to leave. It seemed that the Headmaster had more to say, but the room remained silent. He did not want to witness Dumbledore's desperation. It would be this year. Harry would not let it go on any longer.

* * *

Draco heard the knock at his door and pulled his robes over himself. There was another knock and Draco reached for his wand. Opening the door, the first thing Blaise saw was Draco's wand directly in front of his face.  
  
"Who do you serve?"  
  
"None other than myself."  
  
"Right, then." Draco lowered his wand and moved to the side, allowing Blaise to enter his room. Head Boy was allowed his own quarters away from the rest of the student body- but near the Head Girl which had its downfalls since it happened to be Granger. Fancy that. Not as though he had seen that one coming.  
  
"Nice place you got here. Really, I don't think it's fair. 'Course now you're stuck next to the Gryffindor's Number One, and I can't say I would wish that upon anyone." Blaise turned to find Draco leaned against the back of the door, head hanging and his hair grazing the pale skin beneath his robes. "Drake?"  
  
"How many times... have I told you... not to call me that?" His voice was low and shook when he spoke. Just as Blaise was about to move closer, Draco collapsed in front of the door.

* * *

Harry was on his way to Hermione's room after having stopped by the common room first. He had forgotten that Head Girl got her own rooms. As he rounded yet another corner, he was about to go back and get the Marauder's Map to find where the accursed room was when he came face to face with one Blaise Zabini, an all too familiar limp figure hanging from the Slytherin's shoulder.  
  
"Hey there, Potter." Harry raised an eyebrow, taking in the limp figure which now seemed to be convulsing slightly.  
  
"What happened to Malfoy?" The panic was evident in Blaise's eyes and for once the usually talkative Slytherin was out of words. Harry wasn't sure if it was the hero in him, or the helpless shaking form before him, but he lifted Draco's other side, gently slinging the boy's free arm about his shoulders. There was a choking gurgle before the deathly pale boy spat blood. The sounds echoed throughout the hallway, both Harry and Blaise glancing up on instinct to see if anyone had heard.  
  
"Well, if it isn't the hero himself." Draco looked up at Harry from under thick lashes and glacier blue met forest green. He couldn't help but feel a pull similar to that of a portkey. Tearing his gaze from Harry's, Draco dropped his head to stare at the floor. Now was definately not the time, and he couldn't bear to hold his head up for much longer lest the hall's spinning cause him to vomit up his life's blood again. "Get Sev. Tell him the new curse works all too well."  
  
Blaise was off after a nod from Harry. Harry then snaked his free arm about Draco's waist.   
  
"Making your move, eh Potter? Didn't know blood turned you on." There was more coughing and Draco covered his mouth with his free hand.  
  
"Right, Malfoy. I've been dreaming of this moment since first year. Us two alone in a corridor, you bleeding and so weak you can barely stand. I have to say, I never thought it was going to happen." Draco growled and Harry couldn't help but allow the corners of his mouth to lift in a sort of half-smile. After the initial banter, the two sworn enemies began the solemn walk to the infirmary, interrupted only by Draco's occasional gasp and cough. Once they had arrived, Madame Pomfrey bustled them over to a bed.  
  
"Professor Snape will be coming..."  
  
"Yes, yes, I know, Potter. Just get young Mr. Malfoy to the bed before he collapses. Honestly, I don't know how the boy has managed to endure both the Cruciatus and an eternal bloodflow curse! It shouldn't even be possible; and to know that magic won't work on him- this is going to take quite some time to heal, Malfoy." Harry eased Draco onto the bed, looking at the boy under the lights of the infirmary almost sickened him. Malfoy was typically pale, but it seemed that all of his color had drained from his body. It was only after Malfoy was gone from his side that Harry saw the crimson on his hands. Furrowing his brow, he noticed that Malfoy's robes were soaked in blood and some of it had seeped into Harry's own. There was a strained laugh from the bed.  
  
"You're marked, Potter. In my blood. Now you're mine." Before Harry could retort and wipe the smirk off Malfoy's face, the boy's eyes rolled into his head and fluttered closed. There was a rushing sound in Harry's ears and the entire room seemed to sway. Was Malfoy...  
  
"Come now, Potter, out of the way! The boy needs to be cleaned up. Come on! Out with you!" Harry snapped himself out of his shock and turned, allowing Pomfrey to shoo him away from the immediate vacinity of the bed. Within minutes, Draco was stripped down and Harry couldn't help but stand and stare. The boy was almost covered in blood; how had no one noticed? There were rolls of soaked bandages which Pomfrey discared. His pale chest was marred with angry gashes oozing thick, crimson blood.  
  
"Potter." Harry visibly jumped, his hand already on his wand. The hand on his shoulder slid off, and Snape moved to block his view of Draco. One eyebrow raised, Snape regarded Harry's hand which was still on his wand. "You may relax, Potter. I won't be hexing you anytime soon. That is, unless you speak of this to anyone." The Potions professor loomed over Harry, leaning in closely. "You are not to speak of what you have seen here to anyone. Is that understood?"  
  
"But Professor-"  
  
"_Is that understood, Potter?_" Harry stepped back, eyes narrowing. He nodded once and turned on his heel. Snape didn't want him to tell anyone; just how had Malfoy been hexed so badly? Would he be alright? Hesitating at the doorway, Harry glanced back to catch one last glance at the shimmering blond's head. And why did he care? 


	3. Questioning Conditions

**Title:** One That Stood Alone  
  
**Author:** tsubasagahoushi  
  
**Pairings:** Harry/Draco, Hermione/Ron, and maybe some more later on  
  
**Disclaimer:** I am a poor, poor college student who does not own anything... much less the rights to these characters. Those are all the great genius of J.K. Rowling and the respective publishers...  
  
**A/N:** So I have a sort of plan for this fic now, but it's still very vague. Commentary is loved and stored away in my heart for all eternity. If I effed up something real bad, lemme know that too.

* * *

"What's an eternal bloodflow curse? Honestly, Harry, whatever do you want to know that for?" Harry's hand froze around the fork which had previously been launching a relentless attack on the morning's scrambled eggs.  
  
"No particular reason, Hermione. I just... I heard that was what we were going to be covering today in Advanced Defense, is all." Hermione's face lit up and Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Thank whatever gods existed that such a thing had been mentioned in one of the five books they had been assigned for the class. He glanced back at his nearly untouched plate so as not to appear too eager. Afterall, if he was leaning out of his seat in earnest Hermione wasn't going to believe it was just a passing question about something happening in class.  
  
"Fascinating, really. It's an illegal curse which hasn't been used since the Middle Ages." Hermione had taken a sip of her pumpkin juice, turning in her place next to Harry to face him in her excitement. Harry forced down another forkful of smashed eggs just to prove that he was eating something, then dropped his fork and turned to face Hermione as well. "It causes any cut or wound to bleed twice as fast and continually. What's worse- and what made it illegal, I think- is that magic cannot be used on it to stop the curse. There is no real end to it, except a particular potion which is nigh impossible to make. I have my doubts that even Professor Snape could make one correctly." The eggs felt like lead forging their way down Harry's esophagus. Grabbing his glass of pumpkin juice, he took a large gulp using it as an excuse to glance over at the Slytherin table. A certain blond head was missing again. It was the last day of classes for the first week and Malfoy hadn't been seen once. Harry met Blaise's stare from over his swiftly emptying glass. There was worry there. Not obvious- but Harry was an expert on seeing others' pain and hope since it usually was directed towards him. Feeling a drop of pumpkin juice spill down the side of his mouth, Harry placed his cup down and broke the stare with Blaise.  
  
"Harry? Harry, are you alright?" His eyes widened slightly and he noticed Hermione- along with the rest of the Gryffindor table- staring at him with that same worried pain etched on their faces. It made him want to retch. Instead, he wiped at the pumpkin juice sliding down his chin with his sleeve and faced Hermione directly.  
  
"Sorry, Hermione. Was just... thirsty, is all. We really should be going if we want to make it to class on time."  
  
"Harry..." But he was standing, his books bundled under one arm and gone before she- or anyone else for that matter- could pin him down and disect him for further examination.

* * *

The Cruciatus and an eternal bloodflow curse. The image of Malfoy vomiting blood came back to Harry's mind. Still, the Slytherin boy had maintained his composure to the last minute. Even before he had passed out, he had managed to verbally upset Harry.  
  
_ 'You're marked, Potter. In my blood. Now you're mine.'  
_  
Harry glanced down at his hands, closing them tightly with the memory. What exactly had Malfoy meant by that? And why was it that he couldn't get the prat out of his head?  
  
"Harry, mate, are you-"  
  
"Alright?" Harry finished wearily. He sighed inwardly, pushing thoughts of Malfoy dying in a hospital bed to the back of his mind. Ron had sat next to him at the table as they waited for the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor to arrive. There was still a few minutes before class was supposed to begin.  
  
"It's just that... well, we never really talked about what happened at Diagon Alley last week and... well, I mean..." Harry had thought he was inarticulate but Ronald Weasley took the cake. Ron was right; they hadn't. Harry had merely dodged the subject and acted as though it had never happened. He couldn't bring himself to apologize for his actions because he didn't feel he should; they were his friends and he thought he could trust them to tell him what was going on despite what they were told to do. However, they couldn't continue in their safe worlds if they didn't know that Harry Potter was all right in the head. Afterall, if the savior of the wizarding world wasn't alright, how could any of them possibly hope to be?  
  
"It's okay, Ron. I'm..." Not alright. I hate myself. I feel as though I'm dead already. I sicken myself with every self-pitying thought that runs through my head, but can't help but have them. I miss Sirius. Gods, I miss Sirius. I should have died. I should have died last year and the damned prophecy could have been fulfilled one way or the other. "... fine. Really."  
  
Ron gave a puzzled yet hopeful look. Harry wanted to run from the room right then. Never had he seen such hope etched on his best friend's face. Harry pulled from some place deep inside him which had died two years ago, remnants of a smile. That was all it took for Ron. The confused look gave way to a broad grin and nod from the redhead. And something inside Harry cracked, never to be fixed again.  
  
"Terribly sorry! So terribly sorry! On the first day, too. What an example I'm setting, eh?" A dark-haired man ushered his way to the front of the class, stacks of papers obscuring his face. He plunked the heap down on the table, causing them to fall every which way. "Well, bloody hell if that's not helpful..." The man took his wand and muttered a spell causing all the papers to fly into orderly stacks atop the table. "Hello, class. I'm Luminos Black and your new professor for Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts. I would like to state right off that I have no affiliation to the Dark Lord, am truly who I claim to be, and intend on teaching none other than this particular subject."  
  
Harry didn't hear anything after the man's name. The rushing in his ears seemed overwhelming and he felt as though he was sinking deep underwater. The shape of his eyes... his dark hair... it couldn't be... there was even the familiar faint dimple when he smiled. Harry's eyes clouded over and his back was rimrod straight against the chair. The chair he didn't even feel anymore. Luminos... Black. Sirius...  
  
"Harry?"  
  
"Harry?! Professor, I think he may have gone into shock..." It was only then that Harry registered the crowded faces of those about him. He blinked once, his eyes focusing ever so slightly.  
  
"No. I'm fine, Hermione." The words were choked from his throat. Licking his lips in an attempt to be able to swallow past the large lump of rock which seemed to have taken residence at the back of his mouth, Harry continued. "I'm fine." Fine. A smile. That won them over. Hermione gave one last calculating worried glance before taking her place back with another Gryffindor girl at their table.  
  
"Right then, we should be starting the lesson..." Harry's hands numbly reached for his parchment and quill as the professor began to magic words onto the blackboard. Uncapping his ink, he dipped his quill into the small glass container only to notice drops of liquid staining his parchment. His brow creased in distant confusion, causing several more drops to soak into the graying sheet. Licking his dry lips, he tasted salt. It was only then that it donned on him; he was crying. Crying tears that hadn't been shed since the end of fifth year.  
  
Rubbing roughly at his face with the edge of his robes, Harry put quill to parchment.  
  
_ ' Ten Most Important Defense Spells...'__

* * *

_  
"Harry!" He let his eyes close, his hand on the book he had been about to gather into his arms. When he opened them, he saw Ron's pitying expression. Would it ever end?  
  
"It's okay, Ron. Go to lunch; I'll meet up with you and Hermione later." The boy merely nodded, ducking away and slinking an arm around Hermione's shoulders to lead her out of the emptying classroom. "Yes, Professor?"  
  
"I'm so sorry, Harry. Really, I am. I forget that I look like him-" Luminos Black had cut off in the middle of his apology when he noticed the boy's eyes glazing over. No doubt he was still listening, but Harry Potter wasn't registering any of the information. More than likely, he was travelling back in time to a far less pleasant memory. The professor pulled at his dark hair with one hand and gave a shrug of the shoulders. Wrinkling his nose, the color changed to a light blond.  
  
Harry blinked when he saw what had happened before his very eyes. A Metamorphmagus...just like Tonks... Harry pushed down the fact that she was dead too, and instead managed to formulate words.  
  
"You don't have to-"  
  
"Oh, bugger that. It gets boring after awhile. Or do I not make a good blond?" He wrinkled his nose once more and it was replaced with flaming red, spikey hair. Harry couldn't help but let out a choked laugh.  
  
"Well, now you look like a Weasley, Professor." The older man looked upwards, attempting to catch a glimpse of his new hair. "I do believe it would make Bill proud."  
  
"Wouldn't want that now. Not that there's anything wrong with the Weasley's, but I'm sure Hogwarts has seen enough of them in the past few years to last a century." Luminos Black wrinkled his nose again, closing one eye as his hair shifted into a messy wave of mahogany which brushed at his collar. "There. That's better."  
  
Harry took in the new professor for the first time. He had to admit, it was easier to look at him now and not instantly be reminded of Sirius. Yet there were still striking similarities. Just like Sirius, Luminos Black didn't appear a day over twenty although Harry knew the man had to be at least in his late twenties with his experience as an Auror. Thinking back to a particular scroll claiming _'Toujours Pur'_, Harry shifted his books in his arms as he wondered whether or not he should ask. Or if he could handle the answer.  
  
"Who am I really? Where in all the seven hells did I come from?" Harry nodded grimly, casting his gaze to the ground. "Well, my name wouldn't have been on the good ol' Black family history since my father was outed after helping- well, helping some others in the family that were being downright ignored."  
  
"I really shouldn't be keeping you from lunch; seems you could need it." Luminos patted Harry's shoulder but pulled away when he noticed the boy stiffen at the touch. "I just wanted to see when our extra training would be good for you. Friday evenings sound alright? We can say that you've volunteered to help me with course schedules so that we cover what has been missed in the past six years."  
  
"That's fine, Professor."  
  
"Luminos, please. Professor makes me feel so old and snobbish."  
  
"Luminos."

* * *

Pansy Parkinson was leaning against Blaise, whispering something to him. Blaise narrowed his eyes and said something back, not even bothering to whisper it. Pansy merely backed away calmly, lifting her glass to her mouth as though it was wine she was drinking and not mere water. She seemed to reply which caused Blaise's shoulders to sag ever so slightly.  
  
"...and why do they have to keep Potions for our last class on the last day of the week? There was some sick and twisted plotting behind that, I tell you. Don't you agree, Harry?" Harry looked back to his housemates and realized Ron was waiting expectantly for some sort of response, along with Dean and Seamus.  
  
"Um... right. It's not fair." Ron nodded, continuing his rant about the cruelty of it all between mouthfuls of turkey sandwich. Harry regarded his plate with disgust. At least Ron was predictable; it saved him the problems of having to explain why he was staring at the Slytherin table with such interest. Harry tore off another small piece of sandwich, chewing on it as he gazed back towards said table. Unfortunately, whatever had been discussed between the two was long dead. Blaise was talking with several other Slytherin boys and Pansy was searching through her bag for something or another.  
  
"Fancy a Slytherin, do you Harry?" He choked on the sandwich in his mouth, reaching for a glass of water. Ginny smiled devilishly as she pulled back from him, nibbling at her sandwich as she regarded Harry with one eyebrow cocked in curiousity.  
  
"'Arry, mate? Ye alrigh' 'ere? Ye don' look so good." Seamus patted Harry hard on the back, lowering his face near Harry's paling one. Managing to swallow the small morsel, Harry gave a glare at Ginny before waving Seamus off with one hand.  
  
"I'm fine, Seamus. Thanks." Would he ever be able to say it enough?

* * *

Snape rushed into the classroom, characteristic black robes billowing behind him. He tapped the blackboard in front of the class with his wand, perfectly written white words and formulas appearing upon its surface. Turning dramatically to face the class of typical seventh year Slytherins and Gryffindors, the usual pale Potions professor almost looked sickly.  
  
"You are to partner with one other and work on brewing this potion for the remainder of class. Follow the instructions precisely for I will not be of any help to those who cause their skin to melt from their bones by adding the wrong ingredient." He looked pointedly at Harry. "You will label your potion at the end of class and place them in the cabinet for further inspection next week. That is all." Gone as soon as he had arrived, the room to his office slammed shut in the still dungeon air.  
  
"If that wasn't bloody confusing, I don't know what is." Harry nodded in agreement with Ron, pulling out parchment and books from his satchel to prepare for the potion which would most likely go horribly wrong with their luck.  
  
"Potter." Harry looked up to find Pansy Parkinson standing expectantly at the edge of their table. Her long blond hair was pulled back elegantly and she had her nose pointed into the air in an attempt at sophistication. Narrowing his eyes, Harry noted that it looked more like she was trying to hold back long unshed tears.  
  
"Parkinson." Ron seemed to be stunned into immobility, hovering somewhere between standing and sitting with his hands on the parchment listing the ingredients they needed for the potion. Pansy lifted her head to regard the other Gryffindor, her lips pursed together in what seemed to be distaste.  
  
"Be about your way, Weasel; I get Potter for today." That said, she pulled Harry up by one arm and led him over to the Slytherin side of the room. Seeing as how both houses despised one another, there had been an unsaid separation between them since first year- especially in Potions. Everyone in the class looked up at this act, some already starting to whisper amongst themselves. Harry caught Blaise's stare and was shocked to see the anger directed towards Pansy, not himself.  
  
"Well, what are you waiting for, Potter? Get the ingredients for the potion; it's going to take all of class to prepare it." Harry set his things down before stumbling over to the storage cabinet, pulling his fallen robes back over his shoulder. Still not quite sure on what had just happened, he reached across from Ron to get lilac root.  
  
"I take it back." Harry raised an eyebrow and faced his friend. "This makes Snape's actions completely reasonable." Ron gave Harry one last painfully confused glance before making his way to Hermione's table. Harry sighed, taking down the rest of the ingredients from the shelves. He just hoped she hadn't caught him watching them in the Great Hall the past week at meals. Harry had no explanation for that- either for Pansy or for himself.  
  
"Honestly, Potter, one would think you had to travel cross-country. Now will you please begin slicing the lilac root into centimeter thick portions, then place them into the cauldron after it has turned a deep crimson." An exasperated sigh escaped Harry's lips. Pansy merely began to calculate and pour various other things into the cauldron at will. Turning his attention on his task at hand, Harry began to slice the root methodically.  
  
Crimson. It had to be crimson, didn't it? Did Pansy know about him helping Blaise with Malfoy? Worse yet, what if she knew that and caught him staring at the Slytherin table several times each day of the week? Even when he said it to himself, Harry couldn't help but realize the situation didn't sound so innocent. Was it innocent? Wait, what was he thinking? Of course it was! The only reason Harry had been concerned about the blasted blonde prat was because he thought he was in danger of dying. Despite the fact that Malfoy wasn't the best person in the world, he didn't deserve to die. Gods, had he? Professor Snape looked absolutely wretched, and Malfoy had been his favorite student. Malfoy had even referred to him as 'Sev.' Not to mention that, but Blaise hadn't seemed his usual self (not that Harry particularly KNEW what Blaise's usual self actually WAS). Draco had looked horrible the last he had seen him. Deathly pale skin tainted with crimson...  
  
"Potter! It's been crimson for practically five minutes; what are you waiting for- an invitation?" Harry jerked up from his reverie, knife continuing its methodical course downwards.  
  
"Right. Sorry. I just-"  
  
"Potter..." Pansy's voice was low, her gaze focused only on Harry. "Your hand." It was only then Harry registered the fact that he felt his nerves singing with the old familiarity of life. Pulling the knife out of the back of his left hand, he discarded it with nonchalance. Gathering the slices of lilac root with his clean right one, he deposited them in the cauldron causing it to bubble and hiss.  
  
"Is the potion fine?" Pansy's gaze was still on Harry, and she wrinkled her forehead in confusion before realizing she had done so. Smoothing her features into a mask of feigned distinguish, she regarded the cauldron.  
  
"It'll do." Harry walked casually to the supplies cabinet, bleeding hand clutched tightly to his chest and wrapped in the long sleeve of his cloak. He didn't need anyone seeing lest he be asked about its condition for the next few weeks along with his psychological well-being because of the small cut. Finding what he needed, he quickly wrapped his hand in worn bandages before returning to the table and Pansy.  
  
The remainder of class had passed without event. They labeled their potion and placed it in the cabinet with the others. Just as Harry was about to leave, he felt a tug on his robes. Pansy stood behind him, head held high as usual, with her hand on his robes. Realizing she must look like a child tugging desperately at her father's cloak, she quickly let go of Harry.  
  
"I would like to have a word with you." Harry merely nodded, and Pansy held eye contact with him for several seconds before turning and striding from the Potions classroom. Harry shook his head slightly. Leave it to Pansy Parkinson to expect him to follow behind her like some servant boy. Ron and Hermione looked over, the Head Girl's hands on their potion in the middle of labeling it.  
  
"I'll see you guys in the common room. Or Hermione's room." That said, Harry ducked out of the classroom after Pansy.  
  
He found the blond girl leaning against a break in the wall near the dungeons. Standing in front of her, Harry leaned in close enough so that they wouldn't be heard by anyone passing by. "So what was it you'd like to ask me, Pansy?" The Slytherin girl seemed taken aback at the use of her name, but merely smoothed over the front of her robes with one hand.  
  
"What do you know about Draco?" Her voice was strong, but Harry noticed her hands clutched together in front of her.  
  
"That he's a sodding git who has some serious issues with anyone he doesn't deem to be on his level. He used to have a father complex, but must have gotten over that pretty quickly seeing as how Lucius Malfoy marred his perfect record with a stint in Azkaban. Not that it really matters; he got himself freed on a technicality." Harry heard the slap echo throughout the corridor rather than felt it. Oh, Pansy had hit him plenty hard enough but he'd long gone registering any feeling on that level.  
  
"You. Know. Nothing." The words were hissed through the girl's teeth. Harry turned his head to face her only to find her wand aimed directly in front of his face. There was no shock in his eyes, no anger, no emotion whatsoever.  
  
"Go ahead. I'm sure you'd be rewarded greatly by Voldemort." Pansy winced at the use of the name. Not that Harry wasn't expecting it; even though Voldemort had returned it seemed everyone still danced around using the Dark Lord's name whenever possible. Harry placed his bandaged hand over hers on the wand. Moving the weapon to point at the jagged scar on his forehead, Harry's voice deadpanned. "If you do, strike here. I'd at least like to hope the fucker feels a fraction of the pain."  
  
The corridor was absolutely silent. Harry's eyes held Pansy's, a vast forest of dead green causing the girl to look away. Harry withdrew his hand when he heard footsteps approaching. Her arm fell to her side, the wand no longer grazing his ebony bangs.  
  
"You're right. I don't know anything about Draco. Not one damned thing." Harry turned abruptly, striding down the hall and away from the shadowed corner holding one stunned Pansy Parkinson. He didn't even realize he hadn't referred to the Slytherin boy as Malfoy.

* * *

Harry lay in wait for it. The room was dark, the only light shining in through the open window in the corner. He had been lying in bed for an hour, unable to even keep his eyes closed for longer than two minutes without the image of porcelain skin broken open, angry wounds screaming blood. It wasn't unusual for sleep to evade him for fear of nightmares. No, Harry was used to the constant series of terrors night after night his subconscious so eagerly conjured for him. What bothered him now was the person behind the blood. The blond hair and mercury eyes which threatened to never open again.  
  
And there it was. Like clockwork. The snoring of Seamus Finnigan erupted throughout the room as the Irish boy rolled over angrily in his deep slumber. Always one hour to the minute after Seamus' head hit his pillow, he would begin to snore like a beast. It had always woken Neville with a start...  
  
Harry pushed down the memories and eased from his bed quietly. He slipped into his shoes without the slightest of sounds. Not that it really mattered; Dean had learned to sleep through Seamus' snoring. He had been the only one out of them who could. And now that Ron was in a separate room for prefects, he had no one to worry about catching him. Harry lifted the invisibility cloak over himself, silently making his way down the stairs and out the portrait.  
  
Just as he'd thought, Draco Malfoy was still in the infirmary when Harry checked the Marauders' Map. The unusual thing was that he was in a separate room connected to the infirmary. Upon reaching said mystery room, Harry noticed that all the beds were empty in the infirmary. Glancing back down at the map, he looked at the door in front of him at the end of the hall near the last empty bed. Apparently, Malfoy was getting special treatment. Harry couldn't help the sick feeling at the thought. Why did Malfoy need his own room?  
  
Pushing against the door lightly, he was surprised to find it swing open easily. It wasn't even locked. Curious, Harry stepped into the dark room, closing the door quietly behind him. In the middle of the room was a bed, several chairs surrounding it, and a pitcher of water rested on a table. Moonlight shone through a window illuminating the blond strands to an almost ethereal silver. Harry's breath hitched and he wasn't quite sure why. He just wanted to make sure Malfoy was alive, that was all. At least that was all he had told himself. Taking one step forward, he studied the pale form molded into the bed before him. Malfoy was still just as pale as the day he had brought him to the infirmary, but the convulsions seemed to have stopped. Harry took another step forward.  
  
"You might want to stop where you are, Potter. Oh, and you can be rid of your invisibility cloak; I know you're there." Harry's heart stopped. One mercury eye opened, then the other. Draco Malfoy pushed himself up in the hospital bed, moving back strands of his hair with one hand which was wrapped in bloodied bandages. "Come now. It's not polite to visit the dying without showing your face." Harry tore the cloak off of himself, moving to step forward in protest.  
  
"You're not-"  
  
"Don't move!" Harry's seeker reflexes kicked in and he held his foot above the tile where he was about to step. One eyebrow raised in inquiry, Malfoy rolled his eyes dramatically. "There are wards placed around my bed so should anyone enter without permission it will notify Pomfrey and Professor Snape. Most likely the Headmaster as well. You don't think they were going to leave me out in the open with this, do you?" The pale boy gestured to his bandaged torso and arms. "One good strike to me now and it'd be the end. Finale. The curtain falls and so ends the tragic play that is Draco Malfoy's life."  
  
Harry stepped backwards, crossing his arms over his chest. Apparently, Malfoy was coping with the situation perfectly fine. One elegant eyebrow cocked in question, Draco raked his eyes over Harry. A shiver ran down Harry's spine and he blamed it on the fact that there was a draft.  
  
"Certainly you're not with the half-blood madman, but I'm still not certain as to why you're even here in the first place." Harry licked his lips, pausing to chew on his lower lip in thought. Draco's eyes followed the motion and he stifled a groan. Lifting his head higher, he attempted some appearance of authority. "Well, Potter?"  
  
"I wanted to see how you were. You haven't been to class and I haven't seen you in the Great Hall for meals. I was..." Worried. "... curious as to what happened to you, is all." Draco felt his chest heave, but pushed it down further. He wouldn't let Potter see him weak; what had already happened had been bad enough as it were. He stared into the raven-haired youth's eyes. When it became too much for him, he pulled his gaze down to the sheet covering his lower torso and beyond.  
  
"_Permittere Capacitas_." There was a shimmer in the air surrounding Draco's bed. Harry regarded it tentatively, then took one hesitant step forward. When no alarms sounded and he wasn't thrown backwards into the wall, he took another step closer. Sitting in the chair near the bed, Harry set his invisibility cloak on the nearby table.  
  
"Handy thing- invisibility cloak."  
  
"Yeah." Draco doubled over then, unable to stifle it back any longer. His entire body shook with the force of the cough. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes but would not fall. No, tears would never fall from the eyes of a Malfoy no matter what pain they were experiencing. When Draco felt the hand on the small of his back rubbing soothing circles, he pried open his eyes only to find shining emerald near his.  
  
"Are you alright?" Harry would have laughed at his choice of words had he not been so worried. Draco pulled his hands away from his mouth, blood staining them and his chin. Solemnly, Harry reached out one hand to wipe at the blood smeared across Draco's face. The Slytherin's eyes widened at the light touch, looking at Harry from the corner of his eye.  
  
"Potter..."  
  
"Malfoy..."  
  
"Your hand... what happened to it?" The question brought Harry back to reality and he pulled away from Draco, sitting back down on the chair. Lifting his bandaged hand to his face, he shrugged.  
  
"Nothing much. I cut it during Potions." Draco had wiped the remaining blood from his face with a towel on the table near him. A smirk spread out on Draco's face with the news.  
  
"How very smooth of you, Potter. One would think you'd know how to cut mere ingredients by seventh year, but alas it seems the simplest of things are lost on some." Harry was about to grab his cloak and leave, not quite sure why he had even bothered to come in the first place when Draco motioned for Harry to come closer.  
  
"W-what?" His voice stammered despite himself and he felt his heartbeat quicken. He wasn't supposed to be here, that's why. If Snape caught him, he was a dead man. That was why his heart was racing and palms were sweaty.  
  
"Your hand. It needs to be re-bandaged. You've got my blood all over it. Really, I didn't think you were into such things, Potter." Draco's eyebrow arched smugly, and he reached out one hand for Harry's while the other held a roll of gauze. Harry hesitated, but Draco was right. The bandages were now tinted red and if he were to go back now, someone may see and worry.  
  
Submitting to the offer, Harry allowed his hand to be taken. He swallowed past the lump in his throat when the soft fingers danced over his hand. There was a whistle from Draco once the bandages were off, and Harry forced his eyes on his own hand and not on the blond's face. It was now bleeding again, the edges of the cut sealed over with dried blood. He hadn't exactly bandaged it properly in Potions, just wanting to cover it up quickly.  
  
"Never become a Mediwizard, Potter." Harry gave a short laugh.  
  
"Don't plan on it." Draco took the edge of the same towel he had used earlier to wipe the blood from his mouth and dipped it in the pitcher of water. Meeting Harry's confused gaze, Draco rolled his eyes and shook his head.  
  
"Really, Potter. It has to be cleaned before it can be properly bandaged again. I would think with all the 'accidents' you get yourself into that basic first-aid would be second nature to you." Harry merely gave a shrug of his shoulders in response. It was always someone else picking up the pieces. He never had given much thought to actually taking care of himself outside of survival.  
  
Draco began cleaning the wound carefully, using the edge of the towel and his fingernail to scrape away the dried blood. Harry let out a small hiss when the blond scratched too deep. To Harry's surprise, Draco lifted the cut hand to his mouth. Harry's breathing deepened and he couldn't take his eyes off the pale-pink lips. When Draco lifted his head, blood marred the Slytherin's mouth. Harry opened his own to say something but Draco merely smirked slyly. His tongue darted out, licking at the copper liquid staining his lips. The blond boy moaned in approval of the taste.  
  
"Mine." Harry had moved before he could think further on the subject. Their lips met, Harry's wounded hand tracing down Draco's bandaged torso. Draco responded, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss. Harry's tongue danced with Draco's as the raven-haired boy pushed his blond counterpart into the hospital bed. One of Draco's hands snaked into Harry's hair at the base of his neck, tugging the boy further down, while the other found its way under the obtrusive shirt. Harry gasped as he felt the hand on his abdomen, making its way upwards. Harry's entire body froze when he felt the soft hand touching the upraised flesh of the scar stretching across his chest. Pulling away from Draco, Harry stumbled backwards.  
  
"Harry...?"  
  
"I-I have to go. I'm sorry." He reached for his invisibility cloak, throwing it over himself as he ran from the room. Draco fell back into the bed, letting one hand rest against his forehead. Shit. Fucking shit. Things had been going bloody well and he had to fuck it up. But what had he felt on Harry's chest? It seemed like a scar...  
  
It was only then that Draco realized his body no longer ached with pain as it constantly had the past week. Puzzled, he pulled the hand away from his forehead and began to unwrap his arm. A gasp echoed throughout the still room as the first sounds of morning filtered through the window.  
  
"Bloody Saint Potter has performed a miracle."  
  
His arm was perfectly fine. The wounds had closed and healed over as though never there at all. 


	4. Haunted Memories

**Title:** One That Stood Alone  
  
**Author:** tsubasagahoushi  
  
**Pairings:** Harry/Draco, Hermione/Ron, and maybe some more later on  
  
**Disclaimer:** I am a poor, poor college student who does not own anything... much less the rights to these characters. Those are all the great genius of J.K. Rowling and the respective publishers...  
  
**A/N:** Wow. Thanks for all the reviews- NinjaBubble, DistraughtSoul, Sak, Blegh-PD, ssjmiraitrks! Some questions are answered- how Draco was healed and others hinted at (the scar on Harry's chest). I don't want to give anything away too quickly, but I'm dropping some clues along the way in case you wanna try and figure it out before it's actually said. Thanks muchos for the comments and I hope you enjoy this chapter as well.

* * *

"I am only going to ask you once more, Draco. What happened last night?" The blond Slytherin opened his mouth, brows furrowed in anger with his usually favorite professor. Snape cut him off before the boy could even get one word of protest out, "I mean _everything_."  
  
"I told you already. I was sleeping- perfectly fine, mind you- when Potter came into the room out of nowhere. Being the Gryffindor Golden Boy that he is, it seemed he was concerned about my condition," Draco drawled out the last word, pulling on a crisp white uniform shirt and casually buttoning it up. "We talked, he sat down for a bit, and then he left. That's all." Draco pushed back his hair with one hand, facing the Potions professor for the first time since the interrogation.  
  
"That is all?"  
  
"Correct." Snape merely crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow smugly.  
  
"Then why is it, young Malfoy, that you have pushed back your hair for the third time in the last ten minutes?" Draco remained quiet, lips in a thin line of aggravation. Cursed nervous habit. Cursed Snape for noticing it. But of course he wouldn't be a Slytherin if he hadn't picked up on the sign of weakness. He really should have heeded his father's training and burned the habit from his mind. "Would you like to revise your story?"  
  
Draco glared at the older man and sat on the lush leather sofa in his rooms with an indignant plop. Crossing his legs in a move of casualty, the blond looked across the room at nothing, all the while his lips pursed in contemplation. He had been allowed to leave the infirmary that morning- well, not so much allowed as him getting up and simply walking out. He had hoped to avoid this conversation with his godfather, but knew it was coming the minute his wounds had miraculously healed themselves. Giving into the nervous habit, he ran his hand through his golden locks once more.  
  
"I 'issed 'otter." His lips had barely moved and voice couldn't have been above a whisper.  
  
"Come again, Draco?" Draco snapped at the sarcasm in the professor's voice. Standing abruptly, he fisted his hands at his sides.  
  
"I bloody said I kissed Potter! We snogged each other silly, is that what you want to hear, Sev?! Well, we sodding did and the offending git just ran off without so much as an explanation. 'I'm sorry.'" His voice was a whiny impression of Harry's. "He had the nerve to apologize for it as though it never should have happened in the first place! Probably went running back to his Weasel and Mudblood spatting out the entire story in disgust." The last word was accentuated with a glass shattering against the wall. His shoulders were shaking in anger or some other raw emotion he didn't dare name. Snape merely regarded the shattered glass with momentary exasperation.  
  
"I meant what could have possibly happened that broke the curse. I highly doubt Potter's kiss alone was enough to awaken the princess from his slumber." Draco glared at Snape for the snide comment, but couldn't help but feel a bit foolish. The entire situation had been lingering on his mind since Potter had run from the room some ten hours ago. He couldn't help but feel sore for it, especially since he shouldn't have allowed it to happen in the first place. Draco slumped back into the sofa, defeated.  
  
"I don't know, Sev. Honestly. We just..." His mind replayed the events of the night and Draco suddenly felt as though he'd been run over by the Hogwarts' Express. "I drank his blood. Not so much drank, but licked it from my mouth, but still... it had to be at least three drops." Snape's brow was furrowed in confusion.  
  
"How- no, forget it. I do not wish to know." The professor's face drained of all color and his mouth hung open just as he was about to speak once more. The wheels in Draco's mind were turning just as fast but he seemed to be missing a bolt or two. The Cruciatus had worn off because that was his father's doing. It was only meant to last for a certain amount of time, seeing as how the caster was not in direct contact with the victim. However, the crucial ingredient in the potion for the eternal bloodflow curse had eluded them. Draco had been taking the watered down version to slow the curse, but it could only be completely ended if a drop of blood from the caster was added. And that had been Lord Voldemort...  
  
"I must speak with the Headmaster. Go about your way as usual, Malfoy, but stay away from Potter." Ice blue eyes clouded in confusion, Draco suddenly remembered the sensation of uplifted skin across Harry's chest.  
  
"But, Sev, Harry had a cut- a scar I believe-" Snape darted across the room to loom over Draco, his shadow cloaking the blond in darkness.  
  
"As I said, _stay away from Potter_. I say this for your personal well-being, Draco. Heed my words." Before he could protest or prod for answers, the door slammed behind Severus Snape, leaving Draco in his rooms with painful silence.  
  
There was another crash of glass against the stone wall.

* * *

Harry stared at the dancing flames of the fireplace. He would have been happy to merely stay in his bed all day, but after missing both breakfast and lunch it seemed his fellow Gryffindors felt something had to be done. So he sat in the common room listening to the idle chatter bounce from wall to wall. There were no Friday classes for seventh years; instead, it was designated as a study period. Meaning, of course, that none of the Gryffindors were doing such things aside from Hermione Granger. After a pathetic game of chess with Ron, the redhead had realized Harry wasn't in the mood, and left with an excuse that Hermione wanted to see him about their Potions assignment the other day. No doubt they were snogging; it seemed Ron still felt the need to fabricate some excuse for seeing his girlfriend other than the obvious.  
  
His mind followed the inevitable path and all too soon Harry was reminded of smooth, porcelain skin and soft pink lips pressed against his own. Closing his eyes in memory, the image of the flames was burned into the back of his eyelids. It had been like fire; instantaneous and burning, yet oh, so destructive. Harry wanted nothing more than to crawl back into his bed and wait for the end. He had been an absolute idiot. He had turned tail and ran, just because another one of his scars had been recognized.  
  
"Dreaming of your Slytherin lover?" Harry's eyes shot open at the whispered voice only to see one Ginny Weasley smiling devilishly. She climbed over the back of the sofa, sitting directly next to him. Ginny's crush had long since passed, but now she seemed to have the sneaky teasing of the twins in her veins; and, somehow she was far worse than Fred and George because most of the time her teasing comments were directly on the mark.  
  
"Shouldn't you be in class, Ginny love?" The redhead girl merely rolled her eyes and tsked.  
  
"Really, Harry, is she that good? It's nearly time for dinner; classes are over." Harry shrugged his shoulders carelessly. Time wasn't really an issue when you were mentally thrashing yourself. Then thrashing yourself again for being so melodramatic to do so in the first place. It was a vicious psychological cycle. Just then Ron came striding into the common room, a silly grin on his face as though he had been told he would be playing for the Chudley Canons. Spotting Harry near the fireplace, the redhead practically skipped over, grinning like a loon the whole while.  
  
"I take it studying went well," Harry stated, voice dripping with sarcasm. Usually Ron's face would turn a shade similar to his hair but instead the grin merely widened.  
  
"You won't believe what I saw. There was commotion outside in the hall as I was leaving Hermione's rooms, and who else do I see than Malfoy at his door," Ron's voice had growled out the last bit, as though Malfoy had no right to be there despite the fact that he was Head Boy. Harry's mouth dropped slightly. So, Draco was alright then? Malfoy. Malfoy was out of the infirmary. "I was going to give him a good row, but Pansy Parkinson came out of his rooms crying." Ron was immersed in his storytelling now, but Harry's mind was tumbling over several ideas at once. Pansy Parkinson had been in Draco's rooms. She had been crying. What had she been doing there? Well, that was a stupid thought; she was a Slytherin and it seemed pretty obvious if the two were dating. An unrecognizable feeling whelmed in the pit of his stomach at the thought. Were they dating?  
  
"That's not the best part. No, no, Harry, mate, you've got to hear this. After she left, there were tears in Malfoy's eyes!" Ron had fallen into the nearest chair, laughing at this point. "Tears in the sodding git's eyes! All dramatic-like!" Ron made several sobbing noises before tossing his head back dramatically, one hand across his face in distress. He didn't notice Harry's entire body tighten, but another Weasley did. Ginny raised an eyebrow, looking over at Harry curiously.  
  
"Can you believe it? Malfoy was crying like a baby. Malfoy!" It was obvious that Ron's mind was morphing the event into more than it actually was, but the thought only sent him into another fit of laughter. Harry's brow creased and he felt sick. What could have possibly brought Malfoy near tears? Ron sat up, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. The laughs subsided and he noticed Harry's stern expression. "Harry, mate, what's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing. Since when has Malfoy been back?" The raven haired boy attempted at a casual pose but wanted nothing more than to run from the room. Something was wrong. Something had to be. Unless of course... if Pansy had broken up with him... but she had been crying... and it wasn't as though Malfoy was one to cry over mere relationship problems.  
  
"He showed up to lunch. I heard he was sick or something. Wish he could've stayed that way. He probably was really just on some errand for his father and You-Know-Who. Harry, are you-"  
  
"I have to be going. Professor Bla-" Harry choked on the words and the memories which they brought with them. "Luminos... I have to help him with the course schedule." Harry stood abruptly, leaving the common room without so much as a glance back at them. They would be leaving for dinner soon, but Harry wasn't the least bit hungry.  
  
The portrait shut behind the boy, leaving one Weasley glaring at the other. When he felt his sister's heavy glare, Ron turned his gaze from the portrait to face her.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You're an idiot."

* * *

"... and so I want you to dress in a pink tutu and dance atop the Gryffindor table tomorrow in order to strengthen your training."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Harry." Harry looked up from the desktop which he had memorized in the past half hour. He did not want to look at the professor unless he absolutely had to, and his mind was still trying to absorb what had happened with Malfoy. Not to mention why he should even care. Luminos was standing in front of him, his mahogany hair pulled back into a small ponytail at the base of his neck. "You're not even listening to me."  
  
"I'm sorry, Professor-"  
  
"Luminos, please."  
  
"Luminos..." Harry had averted his eyes again. He couldn't help it. If he paid attention to the man in front of him he was instantly reminded of Sirius. He should be over it... it had been over a year ago. He should be able to forget. Suddenly he was met with deep blue eyes gazing into his own. Startled, Harry jerked backwards, slipping from his chair.  
  
"Oh, oh! Don't want you falling." The professor grabbed Harry's cloak, pulling him back into the chair. He was bent over, one hand on the desk so that he could look the young man in the eye. Patting Harry's shoulder once, he hopped onto the opposite desk, his legs resting atop the one Harry sat at.  
  
"I know it's got to be hard. If you want to talk about him-"  
  
"NO." Harry's shout echoed throughout the empty classroom. Luminos' eyes widened slightly at the outcry. Harry's hands were fisted at his sides and his head turned away from the professor's view. Everyone was always asking how he was, wanting to know if he was over it yet, but they didn't want to really know what was going on. Harry had never been given the time to mourn because they all expected him to save the world no matter what. They said one thing, but their emotional masks said another. He was the only one who could defeat Voldemort- it was either him or the Dark Lord. There was no time for a distraught teenage boy in that equation.  
  
Several minutes passed in silence before his hands slowly unclenched and shoulders slumped in defeat. "No, thank you. I'm fine." Harry looked back at Luminos, jaw clenched and firm. Now was not the time. He hadn't a choice in the matter. This was what he was born for, this was what he would die for. The same relentless determination that had gotten him through sixth year was in place. Luminos merely nodded.  
  
"Well then, I think we've done enough talking. You're not going to learn anything if that's all we do, now will you?" Walking to the empty space at the front of the classroom for practice and dueling, the older man turned to face Harry with a smile on his face. "Why don't you show me the Patronus charm I've heard such wonderful tales of?"  
  
Harry stood, shrugging his robes back over his shoulders. Taking his wand in one hand, he stood in the exact same spot he had when Lupin first instructed him in learning the Patronus. Closing his eyes, wand outstretched in front of him, Harry spoke the incantation in a monotone. There was a small pulse of power in his hand but not the usual surge of energy. Opening his eyes in confusion, he realized there was nothing there. The stag was nowhere to be seen.  
  
"_Expecto Patronum!_" His voice was firm, yet laced with confusion. Again the same pulse, but not even a wisp of silver mist appeared from his wand.  
  
"Harry-"  
  
"_EXPECTO PATRONUM!_" Harry's eyes gleamed with confusion. It wasn't working. Why wasn't it working?! Then it dawned on him. Nothing. That was why. He felt absolutely nothing.  
  
Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Harry's wand lowered as his arm slowly fell to his side. The usual warmth of his parents which fueled his Patronus was gone. He couldn't find it anymore. He was left alone, nothing but a vast emptiness filling his gut where the faint glimpse of a memory with a happy family once was. He couldn't conjure such a memory for everytime he tried there was nothing but death there. Death and, dear gods, apathetic anger towards his parents. They had left him here with this burden-he knew it was childish-but he couldn't help but feel a sort of tired anger towards them. So now he didn't even have the imagined memory of love. There was none left at all. Hands were suddenly on his shoulders and the choked sob escaped his lips without him even knowing.  
  
"Harry, it's alright. You don't have to do the Patronus. You don't have to do anything." The soothing voice broke through his daze of confusion. Looking up slightly to see Luminos next to him, Harry finally felt a flicker of the way he should- like a boy. Just a boy. Luminos smiled weakly, his mouth curving in a familiar way. In an all too familiar way. Sirius had loved him. Sirius had died for him. And here he was, almost throwing away all of that to just give up. He couldn't do the Patronus anymore, but that didn't mean he could let himself fall apart either. Accepting the heavy weight which seemed to pull at his entire body, Harry tore from the loose embrace.  
  
"No." His voice was low and rough. Clearing his throat, Harry ignored the coldness which seemed all too eager to replace the warm embrace. "No. I have to defeat Voldemort. I'm Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived." His voice was monotone once more and his back was to his professor.  
  
"I don't have a choice." A heavy silence enveloped the empty classroom. An unusually solemn voice broke it, causing Harry to turn and face the one who spoke.  
  
"Let's start with something else then." Luminos' eyes were hooded and his head held high. He appeared more stern and regal now, rather than the usual friendly jokester. Harry nodded, moving across from his professor on the dueling platform.  
  
"Wand at the ready."

* * *

Draco glared at the Gryffindor table over his glass. Potter wasn't at dinner either. The prat seemed to be ignoring him as well. Not only did he do unexplainable things to him, but then he disappears from sight. Glaring at his food, it was obvious that Draco Malfoy was not in the best of moods and all of Slytherin table took notice. He sat alone, several seats around him vacant for fear of setting the blond off. Pansy hadn't shown up which wasn't surprising. He had only done so for image's sake and... well, alright, he admitted that he had hoped to catch Potter for a word. Or a good row. Really, it was one in the same with them.  
  
"Are you going to eat that or torture it further? Because honestly, there are far more interesting things to torture if you're in such a mood." Draco placed his fork down perfectly on the napkin next to the appropriate utensil. It seemed his mother's strict proprieties took hold of his mind even at Hogwarts. Blaise sat across from him, loading his plate full of food.  
  
"It's not as though you need it; you're already bloody eating everything that appears in your sight." Blaise shrugged, chewing on one dinner roll while reaching for another and beginning to butter it meticulously. Draco stared at his plate, the chatter of the hall washing over him in waves of pure noise.  
  
"He'd want this. Afterall, he was always eating and now I have to eat in his honor." Blaise's voice was strangely serious for his words. A smirk managed its way onto the blond Slytherin's lips.  
  
"Right then. You'll be needing this." He pushed his plate across the table to Blaise. The mood lightened and chatter became less menacing. Grimacing at Blaise's monstrous appetite and rapid method of appeasing said beast, Draco stood to take his leave.  
  
"Wai' a min', Drake!" Choking on the food which seemed to have gotten in the way of his speech, Blaise hit his chest twice before downing a glass of water. Honestly, was he really a Slytherin? "Hogsmeade tomorrow? Three Broomsticks? We can give him a drink in honor as well." The meaning behind the suggestion was unspoken. And show everyone else that they were completely unaffected by the 'unfortunate event'. Draco merely nodded before elegantly striding from the Great Hall.  
  
He was soon in the dungeons and making his way to the familiar classroom. Not even bothering to knock, Draco strode into the Potions Master's office. Snape didn't even look up from his desk where he was pouring over a text so ancient it seemed the pages were visibly rotting in front of his very eyes. Plopping into the chair set in front of the opposing desk, Draco crossed his arms and stared at the head of greasy black hair. Really, you would think he would have found something for that by now.  
  
"Yes, Malfoy?" Snape didn't even look up from his reading, merely taking a few notes before turning the page. When there wasn't a reply, he inwardly sighed. This was not a good sign. He remembered the few times that the young blond had come to his office in a silent rage. Noting the page number, he gently closed the book before pushing it to the side and leaning forward onto the large desk, his hands folded in order to hide his aggravation.  
  
The blond's arms were crossed, his chin high and eyes narrowed. Only the Potions professor knew the secret behind the upraised chin and sharp expression- Draco Malfoy was visibly upset and terribly afraid. Snape merely raised an eyebrow in question. He was going to give the boy ten seconds before he forfeited the silent game and began his tirade of angry questions.  
  
Ten. Draco kept eye contact. Nine. He averted his gaze, glaring at the bookcase in the corner instead as though it had just insulted his family's name. Eight. His fingers clenched at the fine material of his cloak. Seven. He stood, making it as casual as possible. Six. The boy walked to a nearby bookcase, fingering the binders of several books. Five.  
  
"What do you bloody think I'm here for?! Potter's blood is now somehow a substitute for Lord Voldemort himself, you tell me to ignore him, and you KNOW what happened to Crabbe!" With the last point, the blond whirled to face his godfather, his pale skin flushed with anger. Seemed he was a bit more upset than previously thought- had only made it to five seconds this time. Snape took a deep breath and unfolded his hands, lifting his head to meet Draco's gaze directly.  
  
"Have you heard from your father?" The question brought the expected response. Draco's eyes filled with anger, disgust, and-despite himself-pain. He sank back into the chair, glaring at the same pitiful bookcase which had angered him before.  
  
"I have. If you can count the short note threatening me to join Their cause by winter break, and that I was lucky to be well. It surely wouldn't happen next time." He spat out the last words, chest heaving in anger. They sat in silence for several minutes, allowing for Draco's temper to cool.  
  
"I cannot explain why Potter's blood worked as a substitute for Voldemort's," The Dark Lord's name dripped off the professor's tongue like something rotten, and he lifted one hand to silence Draco's protests, "First off, my theories on the matter deal with events which are none of your concern. Those are only Potter's tales to tell. What Vincent Crabbe did was honorable," his lips pursed together in a sign of twisted approval. "He refused the Dark Mark in the end and was made an example for all of you who dared to go against the Dark Lord's wishes." The room was silent once more as Draco's jaw tightened against the words.  
  
"And why should I ignore him?" Draco's composure had fully recovered, his voice its usual liquid drawl. He faced his godfather once more, hoping that this answer would not be like the rest- either something he already knew or nothing at all. The man had a most annoying way of explaining things without really giving away any information at all. He supposed it was from all the double agent work.  
  
"Potter is inextricably attached to Voldemort. It is best that you avoid the man in whatever way possible to stall your initiation." Mercury collided with the darkest of blacks. There was more than that. Once again, Draco was given just enough to pique his interest only to be pushed away from the prize.  
  
Standing, Draco made his way for the door. He paused, hand resting against the heavy wood. Without turning, he asked the one question he hoped Snape had an actual answer for. "And my father?"  
  
"Do as you always have; be the Slytherin that you are." Draco did not reply, but merely pushed the door and left without so much as a glance back or another word. Meaning he would do as all those who wished to oppose the Dark Lord did; to everyone else he would appear as though he completely agreed with the others until he could find a way out for himself. Even if that meant at the expense of others.

* * *

"One butterbeer, please, Madame Rosmerta." The woman looked up when she recognized the voice. Smiling the same half-genuine, half-hopeful smile that had been on her lips since last year when the war started, she bustled Harry off to an empty table telling him not to worry about his order. Harry sat alone, staring at the people passing by through the window. So it was, he was waiting at the Three Broomsticks for Hermione and Ron. He hadn't particularly wanted to go to Hogsmeade but wasn't really given a choice. His friends' faces had said it all- 'if you don't come then that means something is wrong, meaning we're going to have to continue to annoyingly ask you several times a day on your mental wellbeing.'  
  
"Harry?" The light feminine voice caused him to pull his gaze from the window. Long, black hair spilled over her small shoulders and she still held the beauty which had once made her one of the most attractive and wanted girls at Hogwarts. "Harry! It is you. I didn't recognize you from the back."  
  
"Trademark scar wasn't in view; without that and my glasses, I'm pretty much just another bloke." He had meant it to be light-hearted, but Cho Chang's lips curved in a frown and she looked away from him.  
  
"Oh, Harry, I didn't mean that-"  
  
"Neither did I. Can't I make a joke of myself?" He attempted a smile, but it was nothing close to his old one which used to brighten up the entire room. Cho smiled weakly and nodded, apologizing for being so serious all the time. The past year Harry had heard Cho was taking advanced training to become an Auror. She was supposed to go to a prestigious wizarding college but had decided against it considering the circumstances. Another person who changed their course of life because he was unable to do the one task his was created for.  
  
"Well, I really should be off. I'm only on a lunch break and if I don't get back to my post then I'm sure someone is going to report me." She shook her head in annoyance before beaming down at him with her usual cheerfulness. "Oh, that's right! I came here to tell you I'm stationed for patrol at Hogsmeade. So if you would ever like to get a bite to eat, even just to talk..." Harry nodded, and the Chinese girl gave one last smile before darting off when her order was called.  
  
"Here you are, lad." His eyes widened and he sat back as the largest mug of butterbeer he had ever seen was placed in front of him. Several plates of food began to fill the table until there was hardly any free space left. "You're so thin! Really now, I understand that Seekers need to be small for the season but it's unhealthy. Eat up! Eat up!" Before Harry could protest, the woman had bustled off and began taking orders from other customers. A heavy sigh escaped his lips and he took a large drink from the monstrous mug.  
  
"Is this why you don't eat in the Great Hall? Is the food not good?" The wispy faraway voice calmed Harry for once, and he was glad to see Luna already sitting across from him.  
  
"Apparently I'm not eating enough." Luna regarded him for several seconds, tilting her head at different angles as though inspecting a potential prize winner. She gave a small shake of her head in agreeance before reaching for one of the plates of food. Harry looked down at himself. Maybe he wasn't eating enough. Considering he wasn't quite sure when the last time he had eaten was, he supposed this was true. A defeated sigh escaped his lips and he reached for one of the small appetizers. Luna looked up at him at the sound.  
  
"Do you think there are rabbits on the moon?" A real grin spread across Harry's lips. Beginning to eat his ten course meal, he started the long debate on the strange topic. Several plates later, Harry leaned back in his seat. If he ate anymore, he truly did believe he would die right here and now. Noticing Luna had a smudge of sauce on her face, he reached across the table casually to wipe it away with his napkin. He felt at ease with the strange girl and their behavior between one another was the most relaxed relationship he felt he had at the moment.  
  
"Really, Potter, have you sunk so low the only one that will date you is Loony?" The familiar drawl caused his stomach to do a most uncomfortable impression of a pretzel being twisted. Luna regarded the fellow blond with wide eyes as she continued to munch on her dessert of pie.  
  
"Leave her alone, Malfoy." Harry glared at the Slytherin only to find his face tinged pink and eyes sparkling with anger towards Luna.  
  
"So you are dating then? Funny; I didn't think you had a thing for blondes." He spat the last word, taking a step closer to their table. They hadn't had many fights last year, both seeming to keep to themselves instead of hassling the other. Usually, Malfoy only fought with him in public places at school. Standing, Harry put himself between Draco and Luna.  
  
"I should say the same for you." Harry's tone was angry and laced with something else which bordered on jealousy. Not that he admitted it to himself. His eyes darted to the blonde Slytherin girl across the room. Draco's face contorted into confusion before he followed the Gryffindor's gaze. "Honestly, crying over Parkinson. I had thought Malfoys were above mere human emotions."  
  
"At least we have them in the first place. If my godfather were to fall into oblivion I would at least show some sort of remorse." The words drawled from the pale pink lips in confused anger. Harry clenched his fists at his sides.  
  
"Shut it, Malfoy! You know nothing about Sirius!" At this point, the entire bar fell quiet. Seeing as how most of its occupants were Hogwarts students, the fight was something they had been waiting for since the beginning of term. It was another one of the standard events marking the new year- Malfoy and Potter's verbal and physical spars. Harry felt his control slipping away, clenching his hands tighter so that his nails dug into skin.  
  
"Enough to know he was another bloody idiotic Gryffindor able to wear their emotions on their sleeves. Able to openly express any thought of dissention without the threat of immediate death!" Draco seemed to calm himself at this, his eyes darkening. "Afterall, he's probably better off dead."  
  
There was a rushing sound in his ears like the ocean roaring on a beach. Launching himself at the blond, they both fell to the floor. Harry punched the offending mouth which dared to say Sirius' life was worthless. It was responded with a blow to his own face and his glasses went flying across the floor. Eyes clenched shut, he struck out again, happy to find his fist connect with familiar flesh.  
  
Harry felt himself rolling and soon mercury eyes were mere centimeters away from his own. Draco's anger receded when he noticed the emerald shining with emotion. Emerald. Harry's eyes were the same determined spheres they had been back in fifth year. Pressing himself down into Potter, he felt something against his thigh which surely wasn't the boy's wand. Raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow, Draco pushed his hips forward pressing himself further into the boy beneath him. There was a flash in those emerald eyes and a hiss escaped Harry's lips. Whether it was anger or pleasure was for anyone to tell. Leaning in close enough for his breath to brush against the raven strands, Draco whispered a challenge only for him to hear. Suddenly hands were on his back, pulling him off of his prey.  
  
"Get off Harry, you fucking Slytherin ferret!" Draco glared at the Weasel. Wrenching himself from his grasp, he took several steps away from the Golden blasted Trio. Hermione was bent near Harry, murmuring to him before glaring up at Malfoy. Making eye contact with Harry himself, Draco lifted his head in pride even though he knew his lip was torn and bleeding.  
  
"Do you accept?" With Potter's glasses back on his face, Draco couldn't help but think he was somehow even more appealing when bruised and bloody. The raven haired boy merely nodded once before shrugging off Granger's help and standing on his own with some difficulty.  
  
"Bloody hell, I take my eye off you for one minute and-" Blaise's rant was cut off when he noticed the battered boys and Gryffindor death glares.  
  
"Let's go, Blaise. There's nothing of importance here." Their backs turned, they headed off to the other room where they had been drinking far more intoxicating beverages than the average butterbeer. However, they were soon stopped short by one particularly unforgivable comment.  
  
"Can't fight without your goons, Malfoy? If anyone was better off dead, it'd be them." Draco whirled, wand outstretched and a hex on his lips when Potter stood between the two.  
  
"Shut your mouth, Ron. You don't know what you're saying." Harry's shoulders slumped once more, as though the event had only now hit him and drained him of his energy. Turning to look at Draco, he continued in a low tone, "No one here deserves to die." They kept eye contact before Harry broke their gaze. Apologizing to Luna, he cast a meaningful look at Hermione. He wanted to be alone. She merely nodded once, leading a very stunned Ron to an empty table.  
  
The autumn air was cold as it blew back his cloak from his body. Somehow he didn't register the coming winter in the air. Tomorrow night he was to meet Malfoy in his rooms. They would settle it once and for all, then and there. Harry just wasn't sure how he wished it to end. 


	5. Passionate Actions

**Title:** One That Stood Alone  
  
**Author:** tsubasagahoushi  
  
**Pairings:** Harry/Draco, Hermione/Ron, and maybe some more later on  
  
**Disclaimer:** I am a poor, poor college student who does not own anything... much less the rights to these characters. Those are all the great genius of J.K. Rowling and the respective publishers...  
  
**A/N:** Thanks Saks and Tsuzukuu for the reviews. They brighten my day. It was really difficult for me to write this chapter and I'm not quite sure why... but now I think the plot is rolling along and gaining momentum so the next chapter should come out sooner than this one. I was trying to keep it at least weekly but alas... enjoy this chapter and lemme know what you think! (I can't seem to get the formatting to work on a steady pattern and it has decided to get rid of the tabs for each paragraph. x.x Sorry guys for my crazy format changes from chapter to chapter.)

* * *

Harry walked the halls leading to the Head Boy's room. His stomach was twisting uncontrollably and he hadn't managed to eat anything today. Ron avoided him, apparently sore about Harry's comment at the Three Broomsticks. Somehow, he couldn't bring himself to care. If anything, Ron would be better off without him; Harry knew what was going to happen this year and didn't plan on bringing anyone with him other than Voldemort.  
  
Passing the Head Girl's chambers, Harry paused momentarily. Hermione had tried to talk to him but he hadn't responded. Harry had kept to himself in his room since returning to Hogwarts yesterday. He hated the pained expression Hermione wore when he told her nothing was wrong- just to leave him alone. Being Hermione, thankfully, she let him be for the time being. She seemed to understand better the need for isolation. Harry doubted her understanding would last that long. His tired charade would have to continue soon enough.  
  
Reaching the elaborate doorway of the Head Boy's room, Harry reached one hand out to knock. He had left his invisibility cloak behind in his trunk, not caring whether he was seen or not. It was late but still before curfew for seventh years. A sudden yearning for it struck him, almost similar to a child's security blanket. The door opened and Harry squashed all feelings of weakness. Now was not the time, nor would be later.  
  
"Potter."  
  
"Malfoy."  
  
"Do come in," Draco drawled, stepping back from the doorway to allow for the Gryffindor to enter. Harry hesitated before briskly stepping inside. Draco tore his gaze from the other boy and shut the door behind them. They were alone. Draco pushed down the immediate thoughts this fact brought to mind, and instead focused on the real reason he had wanted to talk to Potter.  
  
Harry looked about the room; it was beautiful. There was a cool sort of elegance to the decorum- silver and green accentuated the rich black of the sofas and chairs. There were stone walls with elaborate figures atop a very ornate fireplace. Harry had visited Hermione's rooms and they had been similar but less, well, elegant and elaborate. Entranced by the spiraling stone snake about the mantel, Harry reached out one hand to rest on the serpent's upraised head.  
  
"They're enchanted to appeal to personal taste." Harry turned when the familiar cold voice spoke, momentarily have forgotten where he was and why he stood in Malfoy's private rooms. Draco ran a hand through his hair when Harry's attention focused on him. "The rooms, I mean. For Head Boy and Head Girl." Draco chastised himself for the nervous babble, even though it had been in his usual drawl. Hopefully Potter would think the chatter to be just another sneering Malfoy comment. Emerald eyes narrowed and the raven haired boy stood straighter, shoulders back in a defensive stance.  
  
"What was it that you wanted, Malfoy?" His voice lacked its usual threatening demeanor. The spark was gone from those eyes once more, leaving them tired and worn. It caused his chest to ache but the Slytherin merely plopped into one of the leather armchairs, legs dangling off the armrest.  
  
"If you hadn't noticed, Potter, I am walking about in perfect health when not three days prior I was on my death bed." Harry shifted, eyebrows knit together in confusion. He had been curious as to how Malfoy had recovered so quickly but did not dwell on it, instead glad that the blond was not bleeding away in some secret room in the infirmary. That fact alone still evaded him; Harry didn't know why he suddenly thought about Malfoy in any other way than pure annoyance and anger.  
  
"I wondered... about that." Harry's voice dropped in pitch. Averting his gaze from the blond, Harry focused on a painting across the room of a storm enchanted to rage continually. Silence hung heavy in the room.  
  
"What's your connection to the Dark Lord, Potter?" One eyebrow raised in question, Harry focused his attention back on the Slytherin who was now sitting correctly in the chair, leaning forward and looking up at him in wait for the answer.  
  
"I would think you'd know that by now, Malfoy. He killed my parents, making me the only one to ever survive the killing curse. Really, haven't you heard the stories?" He tapped his scar with one finger, sarcasm in every word that came from his mouth. Draco rolled his eyes and stood. Harry felt his body stiffen when Draco moved closer to him, stopping mere inches away. One pale manicured hand rested against his chest, sending waves of heat flooding throughout the raven haired boy's body.  
  
"And what about this one?" Harry licked his lips in a vain attempt at wetting his suddenly dry mouth to form words. It was all Draco could do to restrain himself from slamming the green-eyed boy against the wall and claim them for his own. So long he had yearned for Potter's attention. At first it was a child's longing for friendship. Then it turned bitter... in fact, Draco wasn't sure when that bitterness had been mixed with the irresistable desire to ravage the boy. That was all it was; he wanted to claim those lips and break the Boy Who Lived. At least that was what his logical mind processed the strange emotions as. Long lashes hung over emerald as Harry looked down where Draco's hand pressed against him.  
  
"Similar story." Memories flashed across his mind. Pain and crimson staining his chest. Ancient words. His very soul feeling as though it was being pulled from his body. Harry stepped backwards, the pale hand falling back to its place at the blond's side. Harry raked one hand through his hair angrily in attempts to bury the feelings and memories. He did not want to think about what had happened last year; it was in the past and wouldn't happen again. He had the constant reminder of his mistake stretched across his chest.  
  
Taking interest in the snake winding its way about the fireplace, Harry changed topics before the Slytherin could pry further. "So, how did you get better?"  
  
"That's what I would like to know." The sound of Malfoy plopping back into the leather sofa was all that could be heard. Usually their meetings were filled with conversation- typically of the shouting variety. Now there was a sort of heaviness to the unexpected silence which held far more than just house animosity. "Your blood. It was able to work as a replacement of sorts for Voldemort's. Afterall, it was that mad, old coot who placed the curse upon me in the first place." Harry's back stiffened as the words pierced through the silence. His hand slid from the head of the serpent, clenching into a pained fist. Closing his eyes, Harry pushed down the flare of anger which threatened to spill forth. So the new scar was not the only thing Voldemort had left with him. He was now connected to the Dark Lord on a far more intimate level; he had left his blood pulsing throughout Harry's body. What more had the bastard left inside him?  
  
When his eyes opened, they were met with emerald glittering back at him through the mirror resting over the fireplace. His complexion seemed drained and dead, accentuated by the frame of unruly black hair. He and Voldemort were one in the same when you thought about it. No matter how much Harry tried to push himself away from the Dark Lord, they were inextricably tied. His eyes seemed to glitter back at him in agreement as if saying it was true; there was no way out other than death. Eventually, Harry would become Voldemort as last year had threatened. It had already begun.  
  
Draco's eyebrows raised in surprise when the sound of shattered glass pulled him from his thoughts. There was the following patter of blood as it dripped onto the stone floor accompanied by the tinkling of falling glass. Languidly moving from the sofa to the brooding boy, Draco stepped directly behind the Gryffindor. Their cloaks brushed against one another and Draco leaned in close, dipping his face into the black feathers of Potter's head. He rubbed his face against the soft hair, a reassuring hum escaping his lips. This was the first emotional outburst from Harry he had witnessed since fifth year. It seemed all the anger he had been filled with then had drained from his body, leaving an empty shell in its wake. The only time the blond Slytherin could see the familiar spark of life in the other boy's eyes was when his godfather was mentioned. He did not wish to see Potter like this; he deserved better. They all did.  
  
Harry leaned into the warmth at his back. There was something oddly reassuring in the touch. It was only then that he realized this was the first human contact he had since Sirius' death. He knew it was his fault; Harry had been cold towards any sign of affection since the... event, but somewhere inside him he craved the warmth of another. His own warmth had long since faded and the cold threatened to eternally freeze his soul. In a way, it already had.  
  
There was no need for him to hold his smile here, no need for him to play the hero. Here with Draco he was just another jaded boy with far too much on their plate. There was no sympathy, no yearning hope for him to succeed. He leaned his head back further, allowing for the blond to brush his lips against Harry's face, trailing down the side of his neck.  
  
"You saved me." Pale hands turned him around, emerald eyes meeting the heavy gaze of mercury. "For that I am forever grateful." Harry was pushed backwards against the fireplace, the mantle jabbing into his back but he did not care. Their lips found one another in a rush of passion. Tongues wrestled as hands caressed. His breathing quickened and he moaned into the Slytherin boy's mouth. There was a lustful smile in those mercury eyes. Soft pale hands dipped into his cloak, roaming new territory. Harry gasped as the hot mouth trailed wet kisses down his neck. There was a playful nip of the teeth before his skin was being sucked, the tongue trailing circles which nearly drove him mad.  
  
Draco's hands found what they were searching for amongst the robes and shirt. Beneath was a sweet expanse of muscled skin which seemed a bit too stretched across the lean frame, allowing a rib or two to show. They danced along Harry's sides, one finding what it truly wished for and fingering the taut nipple. Harry's body bucked under the sensation, pushing their hips tight against one another. The serpent head along the mantle dug deeper into his back surely to leave a trail of bruises later.  
  
"Anytime," Harry's voice was deep, laced with the heady stupor of a clouded mind. His hands circled the slim Head Boy's waist, pulling their aroused selves together. Neither seemed to care that crimson stained both cloth and skin from the freely flowing cuts on Harry's hand. Draco let out a moan, his lips returning to the swollen ones of the raven haired boy against him.  
  
"Anytime... what?" The Gryffindor's hands slid beneath Draco's shirt, pushing at the waistband of the cursed trousers which separated them. Harry pulled back from the kiss, the first genuine smile gracing his lips since fifth year. His eyes sparkled, his hair tousled even more than usual.  
  
"I'll save you." There was determination behind the husky words. Draco felt his heart constrict and skirted the heavy feeling in his chest. His throat locked up at the emotion in those emerald eyes. They spoke the truth. This was no mere promise gasped in a heated snogging session; Harry Potter was telling him he would save him. It scared him. It was too strong, too serious. He managed a sly curve of the lips.  
  
"Save yourself, Potter." The usual drawl was back in his voice, laced with the deep sound of need. Before the other boy could think much on his words, Draco's hand slid down the expanse of torso and discovered the bulge beneath. There was the sound of a zipper being undone before Harry's world exploded before his very eyes.

* * *

"Bloody hell! Harry, mate, what happened to your back?" Harry turned, towel about his waist and another atop his head, tousling the wet hair dry.  
  
"I fell. Earlier in the week. I was getting in some extra practice before the season started and fell off my broom. Just an accident." Ron whistled, grimacing at the bruises which were turning yellow and brown in their time of healing.  
  
"Sure you don't want Pomfrey to look at that?" The ghost of a smile was on his lips and he shook his head. If Ron had seen some of the marks he bore at the Dursleys over the years he would have fainted. The redhead merely nodded, turning back to pull on his uniform before dinner. Harry's gaze dropped and he went about the motions of getting dressed in the same daze he had done all else in the past week. Malfoy hadn't spoken to him once since that night. No explanation, nothing. Harry had tried to talk to him alone but the blond was never without Blaise or some other Slytherins and wasn't answering his door. Harry had given up. He wasn't sure why he even had such strong feelings in the first place. It was just... with Draco- Malfoy- he had felt alive. The only other time he felt close to that...  
  
Harry pulled the long-sleeved shirt over his self-made scars, buttoning the ends. Surprisingly none of the others had noticed them. They didn't seem to think it odd that Harry always had long sleeves- even when school had begun and the summer was still holding onto the last remnances of heat. It was better this way in the long run.  
  
He waved Ron on to dinner, telling him that he had to meet with Luminos again. Although he hadn't told Hermione and Ron exactly what he was doing with the Dark Arts professor each week, they seemed to understand it was more than just course scheduling. The emptiness in his gut expanded as Harry headed to the classroom. It had nothing to do with the fact that he had barely eaten. This was the same hollow space which had fixed itself into his heart over the summer. Harry hadn't realized it had been filled until the emptiness returned.

* * *

"Draco, love, you're staring." He pulled his eyes from the vacant seat at the Gryffindor table and glared at the food as though it had been the one to catch him in the act. Cutting his food into delicate bits, he slowly continued the tedious task of eating. There was the faintest of sighs which only he could hear before Pansy continued to eat with just as much precision and delicate care.  
  
"You could speak with him-"  
  
"You don't know what you're talking about, Pansy _dear_." Pansy only pursed her lips in disapproval of the growled response. She had followed him back to his rooms as was usual after dinner. Pansy had been paying him more visits recently, since she could barely stomach being around her usual Slytherin lot; she had discovered over the past week they all were, in fact, in favor of the Dark Lord's complete return to power. Sodding idiots, the whole lot of them.  
  
Draco stormed into his room leaving Pansy to close the door. She inwardly sighed. He was highly agitated she could tell that much. Something more than his little skirmish with Potter had to have taken place in the past week. Not that she was supposed to know of said skirmish- or more likely a very heated snog. However, she had grown up with Draco as a child and could read him better than others. Something of that nature had obviously occurred with the Boy Who Lived, leaving the blond very tense, indeed.  
  
"Draco, you're going to wear a hole in the floor."  
  
"It's stone, Pansy."  
  
"I know." He let out a long suffering sigh before throwing himself onto the leather sofa. Lips pursed in thought, she moved forward to sit on one of the plush armchairs. And waited. Draco's brow was creased and she noticed the fading magic of a glamour charm meant to keep the bags from his porcelain skin. He hadn't been sleeping. This was worse than she thought. Placing one hand in front of her for inspection, she idly began grooming her nails. It would do no good to force him to talk; she had to wait for him to break.  
  
"He hasn't been to any meals today. Barely showed up to any the entire week." Pansy made a disinterested sound of aggreement and continued to study her nails. Draco's glare bore holes into the ceiling above him. His jaw was clenched and his head ached. The blasted prat was starving himself. He had felt the thin torso and it was a little too much even for him. The thought brought back the events which had led to this discovery and he clenched his teeth, a hiss escaping his lips. Pansy looked at him over her nails and raised her eyebrows delicately.  
  
"Do you need help with that, Draco?" He glared at her and pulled his robes over himself. Bloody Potter. Blasted offensive git. How dare he just glide into his world and turn it upside down. How dare he give up so easily. But the nagging voice which was his rational mind told Draco that one Harry Potter had entered his world long before last week. And he had been the one to avoid any possible interaction with the raven haired youth.  
  
The silence settled back into the room. It wasn't an uncomfortable one, nor was it heavy with the tension between himself and Potter. He and Pansy had always been at ease in one another's company. She would make a fine wife someday; he just hoped it wouldn't have to be with him. Of course, seeing as how she was of one of the more prestigious pureblood families, it was inevitable that his father would expect them to marry. Arrange it even. Then again, Milicent Bulstrode was of pureblood as well. Pansy would be far better than that beast. No matter what his parents' decision, he would have no other choice than to accept it. He mentally growled at the thought of his father regaining control of his life. Why couldn't he have stayed in Azkaban? The words from the letter burned into his mind and he closed his eyes, trying to pull some sense of calm from the silence.  
  
It wasn't working.  
  
"I don't like it, Pansy." She forced down an exasperated sigh. Draco's ability to speak as though you should know his every thought could become slightly aggravating when one was pressing for information.  
  
"What would that be, love?" Draco's gaze remained on the ceiling, the tension draining from his body in waves of hopeless defeat. It wasn't as though there were any other possible solutions.  
  
"The rules of being Slytherin." She closed her eyes in understanding. She had guessed it when Draco received an owl from his father some days prior but wasn't sure. Self-preservation was one of the first rules of a Slytherin. Save yourself and let others worry about themselves; it wasn't your responsibility. She stood, crossing the small distance to sit on the edge of the sofa next to the blond boy. Up close she could see the stray emotion leaking through the icy blue eyes. Being Slytherin meant you trusted few- mostly no one. There was always someone to take you down, so you had to be sure you struck first.  
  
She leaned down, her scarlet lips brushing against the pale forehead. There was more to being Slytherin than that. There were other aspects but none that were openly shown to others. She smiled against his skin, pulling back so that their noses brushed. Draco and she had several experimental snogs, but no real relationship ever sprung between them. She had been willing- still was- but his mind had always been elsewhere.  
  
"Protecting what is yours is another rule of being Slytherin." She lightly brushed her lips against his in a chaste kiss of friendship. Standing, she let her hand stroke his hair gently before turning to leave. She would give him his space. Only Draco could decide for himself what he would do. If he truly cared for Potter then it would be seen.  
  
Draco lay there, staring across the room at nothing in particular. Thoughts of tired claims came to mind. Harry had been covered in his blood. His. Harry's blood in his mouth, the sour, salty tang of his life against his tongue. His. Eyes narrowing, he pushed himself off from the sofa in one fluid motion.  
  
He needed to speak with Sev.

* * *

"_Expelliarmus!_" There was a crash as the spell hit the desk behind him, sending papers and books flying into the air.  
  
"_Stupefy!_" It was deflected, but not as easily as last time.  
  
"_Waddiwasi!_" Harry's eyes opened in shock as he pulled up a shield just in time to block the spear which had come sailing straight for him from across the room. There was a feral grin from the professor before another spell was cast. "_Stupefy!_" It soared at him not three seconds after the first. The spell hit Harry and he fell backwards, blinking his eyes in stunned confusion. It had been cast practically right after the first, meaning Luminos had expected him to block the spear and not evade it. The outstretched hand came into focus and he reached out for the help.  
  
"Good show, Harry! That had to have been twice as long as last week." There were slight beads of perspiration on the older man's face, and Harry had to take satisfaction in the fact that at least he had been able to make him break a sweat. Last week their duel had lasted no longer than five minutes. Luminos led Harry over to two desks at which he fell into. Letting out a loud groan, it was followed by strong laughter.  
  
"Really, I never thought a Rictusempra combined with a good Impedimenta could cause such lovely waves of pain. Laughter really could kill, eh?" Harry nodded, the smallest of worn smiles on his lips. He sat at the opposite desk, his gaze directed at the floor. His body ached from the duel but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. "Here." Harry looked at the plate which had suddenly appeared in front of him- no doubt due to the house elves.  
  
"Professor...?"  
  
"Luminos, please." Harry corrected himself, watching as the man began to shovel food into his mouth from his own plate. His eating habits somehow reminded Harry of the Weasley twins and he suppressed a chuckle.  
  
"What is this for-"  
  
"You need to eat, Harry. Even when you don't feel like it." The room grew quiet, only the sounds of forks hitting plates breaking the stillness. The food felt like lead as it sank into his stomach and Harry grimaced. He had just grown used to a lack of food and now that it was available, he hadn't been able to stomach it. Forcing several more forkfuls down, he lectured himself. Just because he didn't want to eat hadn't meant he shouldn't. He couldn't remember when was the last time he had truly eaten; last week at the Three Broomsticks was the first that came to mind. Mechanically going about finishing the potatoes, Harry placed his fork down once finished. Luminos had long emptied his plate and the silverware was gone as fast as it had arrived.  
  
"He would have wanted you to live, Harry." His throat tightened and the familiar twist of his heart tore at the raven haired boy. His jaw firm, he stood and said his goodbyes to the professor. The only problem was Harry didn't know how to live and never had.  
  
The mahogany haired man let out a hiss when the door slammed shut behind his student.  
  
"Luminos, you fool."  
  
Harry was heading for the common room when another idea struck him. The emptiness was too strong and he had to make sure. Had to prove his existence. Turning from the next staircase, he took a different path leading to the owlery.  
  
Hedwig flew through one of the large windows looking very fussy. It seemed she had been looking for him all day and hadn't been able to locate him. Perching on Harry's shoulder, she outstretched one foot with the attached letter. Apologizing, Harry took the rolled parchment from her leg before giving her some of the treats which rested in bags along the wall. She ate them quickly, giving him a peck on his cheek before flying up to her resting perch.  
  
The letter was from Cho.

* * *

_Father,  
  
I am honored that our Lord still finds me worthy of servitude. I do not wish to dishonor our family name further; it has already been dragged through the mud enough. My previous thoughts were of a naive boy who did not truly grasp the situation at hand. I hope my position is still available as you have suggested it to be. Allow me another opportunity to take the esteemed place at both your side and our Lord.  
  
Your Son,  
  
Draco Malfoy_  
  
Draco looked over the letter once more. One eyebrow raised in approval of his written words, he made his way to the owlery. It was late and he doubted anyone else would be there at this hour. As Head Boy, if he were to be caught by any professor he could merely give some excuse of running a forgotten errand. Not that he was really bothered by that fact; no, his heart was beating slightly erratically because of what he was about to send.  
  
His owl flew down from its place once noticing the platinum hair shimmer in the moonlight. Tying the note to the owl's strong leg, Draco whispered its destination.  
  
"Malfoy Manor." A crash echoed throughout the owlery, causing a massive ruffling of feathers and hoots of disapproval. Draco whirled, his own owl already out the window on its way to deliver the letter. "Who's there?!" He was glad that his voice was its usual icy tone and hadn't given away any sign of the rapid pounding in his chest. Wand drawn, Draco slowly rounded the corner with a curse on his lips. Whoever had been up here this late was going to pay for it dearly. Oh, bloody fucking hell.  
  
"Potter! What are you doing here at this hour?" Harry was leaning against the wall, his chest rising and falling a bit too quickly for normalcy. Draco took a hesitant step forward, his wand lowered at his side. Something dark and slick stained the stone walls. His throat tightened. He hoped it wasn't what he thought it was.  
  
"Volde..mort... he's..." Harry's eyes clenched closed in pain as another wave of agony slammed through his body. His forehead felt as though it was going to split open. Images played across his closed eyelids. There was a family. Muggles. They were being tortured. Cruciatus. A scream tore from Harry's throat when the pain slammed into his chest as well. He no longer felt the stone wall against his side but instead was in the home. He was there; he was one with Voldemort just as it had been when Neville was killed.  
  
_This was just a normal muggle family. What was Voldemort doing here for such things? It was only then that he noticed the two large figures attempting to hide the small woman. Massive figures. One with broad shoulders which had once been mere lumps of flesh barely distinguishable from the round form.  
  
"We have nothing to do with the boy! He is gone from our care!" Harry jerked at this; it was Uncle Vernon. He felt himself chuckle but it wasn't his voice. This was the throaty cackle of a serpent about to strike. His- no, Voldemort's- wand was outstretched at Vernon's head. Harry felt his lips forming the words and he tried in vain to stop them.  
  
"Avada Kedavra."  
_  
Draco had moved forward to catch the falling boy without thought. Shifting the limp figure in his arms, his eyes narrowed when he noticed where the slick shine on the wall had come from. Cursed Granger and Weasley. Wasn't this their job as Harry's friends to notice such a thing?! Growling, he lifted Harry with less strain than it should have taken. The fact that he could carry him so easily only fueled his anger towards Harry's alleged friends. Stumbling from the owlery, he made his way to the first place he could think of in his anger. It may not have been the most rational of places but something had to be done immediately and he wanted the prats to witness what they had been avoiding.  
  
"Bloody open up, Granger!" He kicked the door once more with his foot as Harry spasmed for the fifth time since their mad rush from the owlery. The door opened and Draco pushed past the bushy-haired girl with a growl. Marching directly over to her sofa, he placed Harry down on it and whirled, not at all surprised to be greeted by both the Weasel and the Mudblood.  
  
"What the hell is happening to Potter?!" 


	6. Solemn Decision

**Title:** One That Stood Alone  
  
**Author:** tsubasagahoushi  
  
**Pairings:** Harry/Draco, Hermione/Ron, and maybe some more later on  
  
**Disclaimer:** I am a poor, poor college student who does not own anything... much less the rights to these characters. Those are all the great genius of J.K. Rowling and the respective publishers...  
  
**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews- ninjabubble, sak, blah, oracale, and chris. Sorry this is late in coming... I tried, really I did. There is, of course, a very cliche moment at the end but work with me here. I almost had to have it happen just because it's so cliche. XD I tried to express why Draco did what he did somewhat but it will be delved into further in upcoming chapters. I also haven't forgotten about Harry's new scar and whatnot- that'll be touched on next chapter as well as what happened in sixth year. For now, I hope this is satisfying enough. Comments and criticisms are more than welcome.

* * *

There was a rush of words and insults flew from angry mouths. Hermione was knelt near Harry, gently inspecting his condition. A hiss escaped her lips and she bit back the tears. There were several angry scars all along Harry's arm. Blood soaked down through his robes and into the starch white of his school shirt where the scarred arm rested. Pulling out her wand, Hermione closed her eyes against the shouts from across the room. Her mind conjured forth the appropriate healing spell then a cleaning one. Soon Harry was left lying on the sofa, eyes shut and face contorted into that of the familiar pain she knew was in connection with You-Know-Who. There was no spell to heal that pain. How could they have neglected Harry this much? Some of these scars had to be over a year old... this had been going on since sixth year, if not before that.  
  
"Bloody hell, Weasel, you prove your stupidity even further than I could possibly begin to imagine. If I were going to injure your precious Potter why in all the hells would I bring him _here_?!"  
  
"You're trying to trick us! Harry wouldn't have done that to himself! You must have been doing something to him, Malfoy, and so help me..."  
  
"Going to do something about it, Weasel? I'd love to see you try."  
  
"Without your bodyguards it should be pretty easy." Wands were drawn and Hermione stood, her own outstretched at both of the others.  
  
"_Expelliarmus!_" Both boys' wands went flying from their hands. Ron turned, sputtering at what Hermione had done. Malfoy's eyebrows shot upwards in surprise before his lips curled in contempt. "Honestly, you two! You are both seventh years or have you forgotten? And Malfoy, you are Head Boy. Such childish behavior is hardly appropriate of someone with that title." Draco's nostrils flared but he only clenched his jaw tighter. Granger's words had brought his attention to the reason he was here in the first place, resting on the sofa behind the bushy haired girl. His eyes narrowed and teeth clenched tightly against one another to fight off the worry which knotted in his chest and threatened to spill forth.  
  
"But Hermione-" Ron's words were cut off with a glare. The redhead averted his girlfriend's gaze, focusing only on the floor beneath his feet and making all attempts at ignoring the Slytherin who caused every nerve in his body to twitch with the need to beat the boy into a bloody mess. Hermione called for both of their wands, walking over to the freckled Gryffindor in order to return his. She leaned in to the boy, a loose embrace isolating them from Draco. The blond looked away from the act, lips upturned in disgust. He hadn't come here to see their atrocious signs of pathetic love. In fact, he failed to see why he had brought Harry here in the first place. Surely, it would have been better had he brought Harry to Snape. Sure, his godfather wouldn't be too pleased with dealing with Potter, but he wouldn't have to witness the dramatic acts of these two. And then he could at least be closer to the pained boy, prod Sev for more information on just what the hell was going on.  
  
The rage was fading from his frame and he thought of striking up another row with the Weasel in attempts to ignite it once more. He would much rather deal with the fury than this sickening fear in the pit of his stomach laced with such heavy dread he couldn't even name.  
  
His narrowed eyes focused on the raven haired boy across the room. Harry lay on the sofa, scarred arm over his chest and the blood gone from his being. Only Draco could still smell the lingering odor in his nostrils, feel the dried stickiness against his palm where he had grabbed at the boy when he had fallen. Draco's gaze raked over Harry to rest on his face, his throat working at keeping back the choking sound which threatened to spill from his lips. Deathly pale, the palor did not suit the usually tanned Gryffindor Golden Boy. His eyes were clenched tightly shut and his lips stretched in a thin line of internal pain. Beads of perspiration shimmered on his skin, and Draco wanted nothing more than to take the few steps forward and kneel at that figure, brushing back the tufts of wild raven hair from the pained face. Wanted nothing more than to wipe the scar from that forehead and throw the curse back at the Dark Lord, demanding he return both of their freedom.  
  
"Malfoy?" He blinked, not having realized that Granger had been standing in front of him with his own wand outstretched towards him for the taking. Tilting his head up in a mock gesture of arrogance, he was proud that his hand did not shake when he retrieved his wand. It was only then Draco noticed the concern in the eyes looking up at him. No, not this from the Mudblood. Scowl. There. All signs of concern were immediately wiped away by anger. "What happened, Malfoy?"  
  
Draco crossed his arms, easing his voice into its usual drawl as he told them how he found Potter in the owlery, not giving them a reason as to why he was there himself this late- it was none of their business. Ron's fists were clenched at his sides and he stood further away from Draco, leaning against the same sofa Harry now lay upon. Once Draco finished, he darted forward with an accusatory finger pointed in the blond Slytherin's direction.  
  
"See! Why would you even come here if that really happened? You did something to Harry and you're just worried that Madame Pomfrey will be able to track it!" Draco growled low in his throat.  
  
"Obviously," his voice dripped with disdain as his cold gaze bore into Weasley, "you don't give a damn about your supposed 'best friend.' Do you really think if I were to bring Potter to the wonderful Pomfrey that she would let him go that easily? Those wounds are self-inflicted. I would think even you would know the consequences of such actions." Ron's mouth clamped shut and Hermione sighed, one hand working at the strain which had begun to sting behind her eyes. Suicide was not taken lightly in the wizarding world and for any signs of such, extreme psychological steps were taken immediately. No doubt if they involved the supposed saviour of their world, the steps would be even more hurried and desperate. Had he brought Harry to the infirmary within seconds of discerning the origin of the scars, a Psycho-Analyst mediwizard from St. Mungos would have appeared to berate the boy and prod at his mind for the reasoning behind such dire actions.  
  
"Why are you still here then?" He glared in response of the calculating gaze from Granger. His lips were pursed in thought as he rattled through possible explanations which could keep him the enemy and evil Slytherin he was supposed to be. Pushing back strands of silvery blond hair as he gave into the habit, his gaze drifted over to the raven haired boy and all excuses fled his mind. Emerald eyes opened, squinting to make out the shapes before him. When their eyes met, Harry's own slightly widened. His hand frozen, fingers locked about his golden strands, Draco couldn't pull his gaze from the emerald which glittered back at him. Emotion sparkled there before being marred by pure agony as his face contorted into a suffering mask of guilt and disgust. Draco recognized the longing behind the pained expression- the absolute wish for another's touch to push back the fear and suffering. The irrational need for human contact just to know that you weren't alone. Harry was calling to Draco with his gaze. He rolled over, throwing his upper body off the sofa as retching sounds pierced the heavy silence. Draco moved before he could give it any further thought.  
  
"Ssh, Harry. It's alright." His lips brushed against the boy's ear so that the comforting whispers could only be heard by him alone, one arm encircling his waist as the other smoothed back the wild hair. Once the vomiting had stopped, he looked to Harry for confirmation. The weakened boy nodded, sinking into the loose one-armed embrace and used the Slytherin for support. Draco drew his wand, muttering a cleaning charm so that the mess was gone from sight and mind. The room was perfectly still for several blissful seconds before all hell broke loose.  
  
"What are-! You _slimy-!_ _Get away from Harry!_" There were hands in Draco's robes, pulling him up and away from the boy pressed at his side. Cold glaciers met the raging ocean as Ron and Draco glared at one another, mere inches apart.

"I suggest you let me go, Weasley, before I hex you into next week." Red splotches marred the freckled face in rage but Draco found himself thrown to the side rather than knocked up the bracket. He stumbled, grabbing at the edge of the sofa for support. Standing to his full height, he lifted his head in a most elegantly cold manner.  
  
"Harry, are you alright, mate? What did he do to you? Was he the one who caused You-Know-Who's vision? That's it, isn't it?! Malfoy's working for You-Know-Who and was trying to weaken you for him or something!" Draco's wand was drawn and pointed towards the offending mouth, his own splash of red marring his porcelain mask in anger. He knew nothing about the Dark Lord and the idiotic Gryffindor's audacity to align him with the serpentine beast struck too close to home for Draco. Before he could open his mouth to hex the offending git across the room, a shaky hand was raised towards him in a silent plea for him to stop. Draco's wand slowly lowered as his eyes shifted back to Harry.  
  
He looked smaller somehow, sinking into the soft cushions of the sofa beneath him. One shaking hand was held upwards towards Draco in a silent motion for him to withdraw. Upon further inspection, Draco noticed the entire boy's body was shaking. Physically biting back the need to rush forward and ease the shivers which rattled the raven haired boy, he was sure he could feel the tang of blood in his mouth where his teeth bit into the soft flesh of his lower lip. Slipping his wand back into his robes, Draco tore his gaze from the boy below him who was so close he could reach out and run his fingers through that mess of hair. Turning with a dramatic flourish of robes, Draco only stopped when he was standing at the door.  
  
"I would think Potter's friends would care more for him then to toss about accusations of the Dark Lord's plans for his demise right under his pathetically shaking form." Raising his head, he pointed his nose in the air with the highest amount of regal scrutiny. "It is not polite to speak of one's possible death in their presence. Or are Gryffindors so daft they cannot even grasp the most obvious of correct social behavior?" His mercury glare was aimed directly at the redhead Gryffindor the entire time, but then shifted to Harry. Steeling himself, he let the anger he felt for the boy's reckless actions pour into his words. "And next time you decide to take your own life, Potter, do so out of my sight." He felt the coils of fear, worry, and anger tightening in his stomach, climbing their way up his esophagus to sting at his eyes and pierce at his heart. With a slam, he left the sodding fools behind him.  
  
Storming into his own room, Draco slammed his door shut before slumping against it allowing his head to fall against his upraised knees. A shuddering breath escaped his lips and he clenched his eyes shut. He was alive. Harry was alive. And he pushed down all deeper thoughts behind the fear which shuddered through his frame at the thought of losing the Gryffindor boy. He didn't care. No, not like that. Yet he couldn't bring himself to uncurl from his place on the floor as the shudders of withheld emotion tore through him.  
  
Back in Hermione's room, Harry swallowed past the heaviness at the back of his throat. There had been such anger in Draco's gaze but beneath it had been unsaid fear. The raw kind that threatened to tear you into pieces and leave you shaking in a corner crying for safety but too scared to let anyone close enough to help. Closing his eyes against the emotions, he fell back into the sofa as the questions began to fall from his friends' lips.

* * *

Snape looked at the blond boy over the edge of his book. He remained sitting in the black armchair, eyes gazing into the fire which burned in the hearth. Without so much as a word, Snape turned his attention back to his book. This was the third night in a row that his godson had paid him a nightly visit, only to sit in that same armchair and stare into the fire. His silence worried the dark haired professor; he was used to an enraged Draco storming about the room and throwing things, but this silent boy who stared into the flames with a firm jaw set into place holding back his emotions puzzled him.  
  
The pattern continued as such for another three days before he realized what that stiff profile was telling him. Draco gazed into the flames because it gave him a reason for the moisture that gathered at the corners of his eyes. His mouth was tightly drawn in a firm line because it threatened to betray him, twisting downwards into a painful shaking of lips and teeth. And if that hadn't told him what he needed to know, the way he had caught the boy desperately catching glimpses of Potter throughout his Potions class would have spelled it out for anyone who had both eyes and a brain. Which was precisely why the issue had to be addressed.  
  
Closing his book, Severus shut his eyes as he prepared for the conversation which was about to take place. He detested large displays of emotion- mainly because he did not know how to handle them. Undoubtedly, there would be such things pouring forth from the blond boy in moments. Steeling himself for it, his voice was casual when he asked, "What happened between you and Potter?"  
  
Draco was jerked from his fire-gazing by the sudden inquiry. His throat worked at swallowing past the lump which seemed to have eternally taken up residence at the back of his throat- surely it had bought curtains and was planting a garden by now. He had tried his best to ignore the boy. He had. But he was bloody everywhere. In his classes, at breakfast, during Quidditch- no matter where Draco went there was Potter. What hurt even more than seeing Potter everywhere was the act he was forced to continue. He still had to be the snide, sneering Malfoy that everyone expected him to be; especially so after his slip in the Gryffindor lovebirds' presence. He was used to that, though, and it wasn't entirely difficult. The look in Harry's eyes... it was dead. Dead as it had been all through sixth year and the beginning of this term. The spark which had rested in those emerald orbs wasn't even roused to wake by jabs at Sirius Black. Harry Potter was gone and in his place was The Boy Who Lived.  
  
"Nothing. I don't know what you're referring to, Sev." The Potions professor raised one eyebrow before crossing his arms over his chest. Draco met the deep black eyes, tilting his head slightly higher in a nonchalant manner. Snape only rolled his eyes.  
"Draco, do not try your masks on me; I taught you practically every one." Draco's mouth turned into almost a childish pout. Blasted Sev. The boy's head fell and he stood, walking to the fireplace only to lean against it and stare into the fire once more. He felt the heat of the flames but it did not register further than a physical manifestation of warmth; this did not reach his core. Inside, Draco felt as cold as the glaciers reflected in his eyes.  
  
"I take it there haven't been any more..._ private sessions_... between you and Potter." The Potions professor did not wish to hear of such things but knew the remark's effect on Draco. Snape closed his eyes against the crash of objects which once rested atop the fireplace. Ah, there went his grandfather's antique clock. He watched as said clock clattered against the stone wall, shattering the face and breaking off one of the arms. A warped sort of smile flickered on the professor's mouth. Surely his grandfather was rolling over in his grave right now. Good.  
  
"How dare you! You told me to do this! You told me to stay away from him! Well I fucking AM and it's not doing either of us a whole lot of good!" Snape rested his hands atop the book on his lap as Draco lifted a glass carved serpent statuette from the destroyed mantleplace. "They don't even care! They're letting him die and forcing him into their cursed needs and wants without giving a damn about what happens to Harry!" Snape watched as the serpent flew across the room, crashing into the opposite wall. Ah, now it was his mother's turn to roll over in her grave. "They're supposed to be his bloody friends and they watch as he dies! And because of our self-righteous Slytherin ways there's not a damnable thing I can do about it!" There was another crash as the last remnants of miscellaneous things on Snape's fireplace fell to the floor.  
  
"What has your father told you?" Draco stilled at the question. Leave it to Snape to read through his tantrems to the heart of the problem. Draco felt his body grow weary as the adrenaline drained from his veins. It was far easier to become engraged at sodding Gryffindors and their pretentious ways of using Harry, but to reflect on his father's written words... Sinking into the plush armchair, he looked at the floor because he did not trust himself to face the other man. Draco could not allow anyone- not even Sev- to see the fear in his eyes.  
  
"He accepted. It's to take place over Samhain." His mouth was suddenly dry, all liquid seeming to gather in his eyes determined to force a tear past his steadfast defenses. "Voldemort is willing to look past my prior actions and allow me into the precious inner circle," his voice drawled out the news as though he should be pleased to hear such things. Then in a small voice he could barely hear himself, "He's going to use me to get at Harry, isn't he?"  
  
Snape stood, placing his book on the table near his chair piled with transcripts and various other old and weathered texts. Taking the few strides to stand in front of his godson, he looked down at the boy. Mercury looked up at him, the glaciers melted and threatening to spill forth their water. It was the first time he had seen Draco so open since the boy was eleven. He remembered when Draco had come storming into his private corridors that first day, most upset that Harry Potter had turned down his hand at friendship. Even then, the small boy knew what this meant for his future. Lucius had given him an order and it was not carried out. Draco's only chance of freedom from his father had glared at him, then stomped on the slim chance of any sort of relationship other than that of enemies.  
  
He had tried to find a way around it; Severus did not want his godson to be branded by the Dark Lord anymore than he wanted him to care for Potter. He had hoped they would put off initiating Draco into the fold because of the boy's actions over the summer. But Draco had found out why he was being so eagerly brought into Voldemort's inner circle. Potter was not breaking fast enough for the Dark Lord's liking and the man had found another method.  
  
"I don't want to, Sev. I hate him." Long lashes fluttered closed over the tear-filled eyes in attempts at pushing the traitorous emotions back to the locked cage where they belonged inside him. Severus knew the remark was not merely directed at the Dark Lord. No, the boy's hate was aimed directly at his father but was inextricably entwined with the desperate longing which Draco had for his Lucius' love since he was born.  
  
Reaching one arm out, he drew the boy against him. Feeling the arms wrap about his legs, Severus was all too reminded of his own plea for help some twenty years ago. Letting his other arm drape around the boy, Draco held onto his godfather as his body began to shake.  
  
There was no going back. To protect what he claimed as his own, Draco would have to forfeit what little freedom he possessed.

* * *

__

_He watched the bloodied figure beneath him writhe in pain. He deserved it. He held out his wand, uttering yet another Cruciatus to throw the boy into an endless fit of convulsions.  
  
"It should have been you." The voice was distorted. It was his own but something else. No, Harry didn't want this. Neville looked up at him, his eyes rolling about in his head as they tried in vain to focus on their destroyer. He felt sick at the sight. No! No, this had to stop! Yet the curse was cast again and again. And again. "He deserved to die, Harry. He forced you to carry the burden of the prophecy, did he not?" The voice was his own but distorted with malice. Another curse fell from those lips and Harry tried with all his strength to stop it.  
  
The scene shifted and he was in the cupboard under the stairs. Panic gripped him like a vice, causing his heart to pound in his small chest. His body was that of a seven year old, eyes large as they tried to focus in the black abyss. There was shouting outside. In the hall.  
  
"The boy is no longer here! He is out of our care!" Harry scrambled into the corner, clutching at the torn and ragged blanket which smelled of mothballs. There were screams and the brighest of green lights illuminated the hall outside, filtering into his cupboard to highlight the whites of his terrified eyes. He was next. The green light was coming for him and he couldn't bear it. No, he couldn't.  
  
His forehead exploded in white hot pain as the door to the cupboard was torn from its hinges. The tall silouette was unrecognizable at first but then the mercury eyes came into focus, the platinum blond strands of hair blowing in an invisible breeze.  
  
"Harry..." Harry darted forward from the cupboard, his body returned to its current seventeen year old appearance._

_"Draco!" Wrapping his arms about the boy, he sobbed into his shoulder. Arms tightened around his back and Harry froze. It wasn't Draco... this wasn't the blond Slytherin. Pulling back from the embrace, he was greeted by the young vision of Tom Riddle, red eyes piercing through Harry's core.  
  
"Hello, Harry." Screaming, his mouth was covered by Tom's and his entire body wrenched in pain as his soul fought desperately to remain in its home. Teeth bit down on Harry's mouth as a long, snake-like tongue forced its way down his throat.  
He screamed through it all.  
_  
Harry bolted up in bed, sweat soaked through his thin t-shirt. The chest on his scar ached terribly while his old familiar one burned with a ferocity which threatened to rip apart his skull. Nausea ran over him as the sensation of the tongue tainted his mind. Slipping from bed, Harry ran from the room and into the communal bathrooms, collapsing next to a toilet as he vomited until stomach acid burned the lining of his throat.  
  
Stumbling to the sink, Harry fumbled for toothpaste and his brush. Hefting a considerable amount of the minty paste onto the brush, he roughly scrubbed at his teeth and tongue in an effort to rid himself of the taste from the dream. When he spat the third time, blood mixed with the saliva and paste. With a shaky hand, Harry washed the brush and placed it back in its holder. Holding himself upright by gripping both sides of the sink, he solemnly lifted his head to face himself in the mirror.  
  
His eyes were sunken deep into his face, bags of lost sleep hanging heavily from their murky depths. All the color had drained from his complexion and he was sure he could give Malfoy a run for his money on the deathly palor award. The thought of Malfoy only reminded him of the dream and the terrible way in which said person had been avoiding him lately if not for taunting and teasing. His eyes fell closed as the energy drained from his body. Heading to the showers, he knew he had a fair amount of time before the others would be waking for breakfast. Plenty of time to wash away thoughts of Tom Riddle and Draco Malfoy. At least so he hoped.  
  
When Harry slowly descended the staircase into the common room, three heads turned and three voices stopped. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he prepared for another day. Apparently, they hadn't been sleeping long enough for Harry to be safe.

"'arry, mate, are ya feelin' a'righ'?" He nodded to Seamus' inquiry on his behalf.  
  
"Bad dream. Made me a bit sick. I feel better now." He fixed all three with a look that dared them to ask any further questions. Neither Seamus nor Dean knew about his cutting- Hermione and Ron had been good enough to keep it to themselves. But they had insisted upon keeping their friendship alive and to be more considerate of Harry's feelings as they put it- he merely felt as though he was being watched all the time, expected to suddenly snap and off himself. He hadn't meant to cut that deep; he never wanted to truly kill himself. His responsibility to the prophecy and his duty would never allow Harry to take his own life. The cuts were just his way of ensuring his existence. He couldn't feel anymore and the only time he possibly did was when it was proven to himself that blood did pulse through his veins and his heart was, indeed, still beating. Unfortunately, they didn't see it that way and wouldn't allow it.  
  
He entered the Great Hall and winced at the noise level. Because of their insistence on being with Harry all the time, he was rarely left alone anymore. It was nearly driving him mad. Despite himself, Harry's eyes scanned the Slytherin table until finding the familiar blond head. He wasn't helping. Harry didn't know why for the life of him that Draco Malfoy of all people made him, well, FEEL. It must be some cruel twist of fate. He decided he bloody well loathed fate.  
  
"Did that cereal do anything particularly nasty or are they just offensive to look at?" His gaze lifted to meet Ginny's sly smile. Shoulders sagging, Harry shook his head and prodded them further sending small splashes of milk onto the table.  
  
"It exists." She nodded in mock understanding before returning to her own bowl, glancing at him occasionally out of the corner of her eye. Forcing a spoonful down, then another, Harry stared across the hall. His eyes naturally went to Malfoy and he paused in his ritualistic raising of the spoon when he saw Blaise lean closer to the boy. Draco lifted his brows as though vaguely amused but Harry swore he caught a fleeting glimpse of pain in those icy eyes. As though feeling the weight of his gaze, those same eyes focused on Harry's.  
  
It had been two weeks since Draco had brought him to Hermione and Ron. Two weeks since he had felt the light caress against his face or the soft words breathed into his ear. Harry tightened his jaw and narrowed his eyes, refusing to be the first to look away. Two weeks of nightmares involving the Slytherin, some of his death and some of his betrayal. But all involving him in some way. Harry didn't know what to make of it and wasn't sure he wanted to think strongly on the issue. His heart had betrayed him in even thinking for a moment that something could possibly have happened between he and Malfoy.  
  
Their staring contest was cut short by Dumbledore's voice drifting loudly throughout the dining hall. Jerking his gaze from the mercury depths, Harry focused on the Headmaster who was now standing at the head table in preparation for some announcement of sorts, no doubt.  
  
"Attention, attention. I am happy to announce that there will be a special celebration for seventh years in light of Samhain. As many of you know," his gaze drifted to Harry who remembered some vague importance of Halloween but did not remember exactly what said holiday truly meant, "Samhain is the traditional celebration of a new year for witches and wizards alike. Most do not truly celebrate Samhain until they are adults thus being the reason this celebration is for only seventh years. There will be a dance and bonfire, weather allowing." There was a twinkle in the old man's eye which said no matter what the weather chose, it would be a fair day for the celebration. "That is all. Have a splendid day of classes!" The hall returned to its usual noise level as many seventh years excitedly chattered about the approaching celebration.  
  
When Harry looked back at the Slytherin table, Draco was gone.

* * *

"I can't believe we're going to have an actual Samhain initiation! I know the current affairs are dire but for Dumbledore to schedule such an ancient tradition..." Harry raised one hand in question as though in class. Glancing over at Ron, Harry's expression was one of complete confusion.  
  
"Wait, Hermione. Ron, do you know what she's talking about? It's just a dance; what's this about initiating anyone into anything?" Both Hermione and Ron shared a look of mutual knowledge. Harry wanted to thrattle the both of them. They paused on their way to Advanced Care of Magical Creatures which still took place near the Forbidden Forest and Hagrid's old home. They had gotten a new teacher this year who seemed to have a darker interest in creatures- so far they had already learned about Red Caps and Cocktrice- which nearly had resulted in a student's death.  
  
"Well, you see, mate, it's sort of..."  
  
"Samhain is a traditional celebration of a new year for witches and wizards, yes; but it also has been used for initiation ceremonies into adulthood which is why it is only seventh years participating." Hermione pushed back strands of loose hair which blew in front of her face as they neared the forest. "When a witch or wizard turns seventeen, they are regarded as an adult in the community. Their decisions are no longer taken as that of a child. This is way we are allowed to learn to apparate and use magic freely now." Harry stopped abruptly, causing the other two to falter and wait for him.  
  
"How does this pertain to 'current affairs'? You can just say it's in connection to the war, you know," Harry voice dripped with sarcasm. He hated how they danced around the topic now, treating him as through he was a mere child. He bloody well knew what was going on and deserved to be treated as their equal. Hermione's eyes lowered as though realizing how she had been treating Harry before looking back at him, the same flash of intellect in their depths.  
  
"At muggle New Year's, there are promises made and resolutions planned. Such an act derived from the rituals of Samhain. It's odd for the ceremony to take place since it hasn't been done for several hundreds of years. It was mostly used when our world was in constant war with both muggles and wizards alike," Hermione's voice tapered off and she averted her gaze from Harry. "If one makes a promise on Samhain... in the ritualistic manner... then that promise is bound by magic to be held true, Harry." Her eyes met his once more. "Dumbledore has arranged this to see who is willing to join the Light side, and who is truly siding with You-Know-Who. He won't be doing it directly, but if the tradition takes place and the proper spells are cast in honor of innate magic and the earth... any pacts will be sealed not only by word but by magic as well."  
  
The three of them stood still for what seemed like an eternity as the words sank in. Dumbledore was recruiting future members of the Order. The war had reached such a high scale that they needed to dip into Hogwarts' students before they even had time to think about where they truly wished their lives to lead. Ron mumbled something about being late for class and the three of them continued the walk towards the clearing. Was that why Malfoy had gone missing immediately after the Headmaster's announcement? Why was it that more and more people were being drawn into the fight? Because this is war, Harry, and you weren't able to kill him when you had the chance.  
  
Professor Jeunvie was waiting for them, giving a small vial to each of the students as they arrived. Ron looked at the vial in question before glancing back at the professor. "I think he's trying to kill us this time." Harry faltered in his steps when he saw what was in the clearing. The black beast beat its wings, fluttering in the wind as it glanced about the clearing at the students filing into a self-made circle.  
  
"No, Ron, he seems to have made something so you can see the thestral." Ron's mouth opened in confusion but he was cut off by the tall professor who was rumored to be half-Veela. What was with Care of Magical Creatures professors being part magical creature themselves?  
  
"You are all to drink the vial I have given you in order to work with the creature I have arranged for us to study today. Its effects will fade after the hour, so do drink them. Quickly now, we haven't all day." Harry regarded the silvery liquid before returning it to the small table set aside for all the empty vials, the shimmering potion still inside. The professor regarded Harry with one eyebrow cocked before facing the class once more. "Some of you may already have seen these creatures pulling the carriages every year- they are called thestrals."  
  
Harry tuned out the professor's words and watched as the thestral pawed at the ground. It seemed agitated, anxious. There was only the one so perhaps it was wondering where the others were? Harry wasn't sure why, but he didn't like the temperament of the beast. Several students gasped as the potion seemed to come into effect. This only caused the thestral to paw even more fervently at the ground.  
  
"Professor Jeunvie..." The man ignored him, instead continuing in his lecture on the history behind thestrals and their typical uses. Harry watched as the wings beat against its side, its head shaking in anger. Before Harry could warn the professor of the creature's growing agitation, a billowing figure swooped forward from the trees in the forest. Harry's breath caught in his throat, his first panicked thought that dementors were on school grounds and he couldn't project his patronus. However, the familiar cry of his mother never rang in his ears. Upon further inspection, he realized that the cloaked figure resembled a dementor in the sense that it billowed as it hovered above the ground but was not rotting as the dementors were. No, this creature had no flesh at all and the empty sockets of its skull gazed at Harry once it realized it was being watched.  
  
"Harry, mate, are you alright? I know it's a mighty scary looking creature, but it's not doing much more than paw the ground." His emerald gaze locked with the empty one, Harry's breath caught in his throat as the creature moved forward to stand near the thestral. His hand moved for his wand but stopped upon the wooden weapon. The creature stopped and instead was stroking the thestral, easing it into submission. "Harry?"  
  
"What?" Jerked from the skull's gaze, he noticed that now both Ron and Hermione were studying him with worry in their eyes. "Sorry. Sorry, I was spacing out. It's nothing." Ron nodded, going back to jotting notes on Professor Jeunvie's lecture. Hermione gave him one last skeptical look before she too returned her attention to the lecture at hand. Shuffling in his bag for his own parchment, he scrambled for a quill as the professors final words reached his ears.  
  
"Lastly, thestrals can only be calmed and fully taimed by one thing since they are creatures of the dead- death itself. Death has many different names and is actually one of the most elusive of magical creatures. Muggles whom have caught a glimpse of them refer to the beings as 'grim reapers'. Not much is known about them but that they are highly intelligent and can only be seen by those who have brutally taken another's life by their own hands, in respect aligning themselves with the creature." Harry's hand froze, his gaze once again meeting that of the skull beneath the dark hood. "Now if you will line up, we can get a closer look..." The words trailed off in Harry's ears. Death nodded at Harry. And Harry nodded back.

* * *

Draco lounged on the lush black sofa, arms propping his head up as he watched Blaise nervously examine things about the room. Pansy sat in an armchair, legs crossed properly but her fidgeting and biting of her nails gave away her worry. The only sounds were of Blaise's feet slapping against the stone floor and Pansy's occasional bite of a particularly offensive nail. Draco could almost drift off to sleep...  
  
"What are we supposed to do? Doesn't Dumbledore realize what his so-called party means for Slytherins? This is going to cause an all-out war amongst us." Blaise dropped into the empty armchair between Pansy and Draco, covering his eyes with one hand. "I can't bloody believe it. He doesn't give a fucking damn about us."  
  
"Blaise, do calm yourself. I doubt the precious Headmaster will outrightly cause us to swear our loyalty to either side- even he's not that daft. More likely than not this is just a dramatic act for the Dark Lord, to show that Dumbledore has those on his side willing to throw away their useless lives." Pansy paused in her chewing as she regarded Draco lying on the sofa. His face was a perfect mask of indifference and body positioned into that of utter nonchalance. She exchanged a look with Blaise. The dark haired Slytherin furrowed his brows and nodded in Draco's direction. Something was up.  
  
"Draco, love, have you heard from your father as of late?" The ice in his eyes was the coldest she ever had seen, sending a shiver of fear up her spine despite herself. Keeping her head lifted in question, Pansy refused to back down from Draco's icy gaze.  
  
"And why, Pansy dear, would you like to know of my father?" His eyes bore directly into hers until the girl looked away with several blinks of her long lashes.  
  
"We'd just like to know what's going on. Obviously something's happened and-" Blaise was cut off by Draco suddenly standing with a flourish of robes. The Malfoy heir marched across the room, stopping in front of the fireplace. He seemed to stare at the elaborate snake which wound its way about the mantel before turning to face them.  
  
With a shrug made to appear casual as possible, Draco's voice was his usual drawl when he spoke. "I've decided to join the winning side. Afterall, it's what my father expects of me and I do so hate losing." His stomach did a little lurch and he felt as though he would vomit right then and there. There was less than a month before Samhain. Less than a month before he would meet those wretched red eyes and forked tongue again.  
  
"Draco, what in all the seven hells do you mean by that?! You wouldn't- Vincent gave his life-!"  
  
"I fucking well know that, Blaise, or have you forgotten that I was the one who received his remaining limb?" His body was shaking now and he forced it into submission. There was no other way for him than this. He would not allow for Potter to save him, to take Draco as another charity case and burden on his shoulders. Potter was his and he was going to make sure no one else touched the boy.  
  
"This has to do with Potter, doesn't it?" Gods, he hated Pansy and her rational thinking. Blaise gaped in utter confusion, not savvy to Draco's infatuation with said Grffyindor. He glared at Pansy but his eyes did not hold the icy gaze when Lucius was mentioned. Instead, this was the aggravated glare of anger at having been seen through so clearly. A twisted sort of smile graced Pansy's glossy lips. "You've fallen haven't you, Draco? Whatever could he have done to possess you this greatly?"  
  
"We're going to be late for Potions," Draco growled as a sign that this topic of conversation was over. Pansy had been the one who had told him to protect what was his but he supposed she hadn't expected him to take her suggestion this far. Blaise shook his head, rising to stand near Draco. Before the blond Slytherin could do so much as move, he found himself embraced by the boy.  
  
"Don't you dare get yourself killed, Drake." The familiar lump in his throat made itself known and Draco pulled out of the embrace coldly. He was never hugged; not since he was a young, young boy and even then it had been mere cold displays of affection in the presence of others by his mother. Shrugging his usual indifference into place, his lips formed their familiar smirk.  
  
"Well, of course." The moment was over, whatever it had been. Pansy still sat in the armchair, her gaze faroff in thought before she was pulled back to reality by Blaise calling for her to follow them to Potions.

* * *

"Harry's going on a date with Cho!"  
  
"Ron, it's not..."  
  
"Really, 'arry? Brilliant! She's certainly jus' as attractive as in fifth year!"  
  
"Yeah, I suppose so but..."  
  
"Looking at getting yourself shagged finally, eh Potter? Whatever will Loony have to say about that?" All three Gryffindors glared at the Slytherin who stood at their table, sneer upon his lips as he spoke.  
  
"Not as though you would know the first thing about it, Malfoy." Draco laughed, a liquid smooth sort of sick amusement shimmering off the glaciers in his eyes. This only caused Ron's angry flush to flare even further, rivaling his hair at the moment.  
  
"Surely you and the Mudblood could fill me in on all the sordid details. Oh no, wait. That's right you haven't seen so much as a light snog, have you Weasel?" Looking over at Hermione who was taking growing interest in the conversation at their table, Malfoy's lip curled in disgust. "Thank Merlin for that. I'm surprised you can even manage to get yourself that far with the likes of her." Ron's fist clenched tight and he jerked forward from his bent position at the front of the table. Before the redhead could come into physical range of Malfoy, Harry stood from his seat and took the few steps to place him between Ron and Draco.  
  
"Sod off, Malfoy." The two boys were so close their heat intermingled and Draco couldn't help the little skipped beat his heart took at the proximity of those emerald eyes. Those eyes which held something deep within them akin to their old familiar spark.  
  
"Gladly, Potter. Willing to help?" The words were whispered for only Harry's ears. The boy's mouth fell open slightly before he bit down on his lower lip. Draco suppressed a groan at the act, all too clearly feeling his body respond to Harry's movements. It had been so long since he had felt those lips pressed tightly against his own, that body writhing under his touch. He was a hormonal teenage boy in his prime, afterall.  
  
"Potter. Malfoy. Take your seats immediately." The cold, sneering voice jerked Draco from his gaze on the boy and he backed away from the Gryffindor table to his own near Blaise. "Ten points from Gryffindor for causing disruption in class." All three boys opened their mouths in unspoken angry pleas before taking their respective seats. If they had learned anything in Potions these past seven years was that there was no arguing with the slimy git of a professor concerning the unfair deduction of house points. It only led to more.  
  
"Now that I have your attention," Snape's sour expression lowered on Harry. The Gryffindor merely shrugged, taking out both parchment and a quill for the inevitable amount of notes to be written-not understood in the least, mind you. "We will be brewing a series of very complex potions in the following weeks of which I do not expect many of you to grasp. However, if you would so wish to pass your N.E.W.T.s, you best devote your every waking moment to the complete and utter comprehension of these potions before you." There were several groans from students- predominantly from Gryffindors but not limited to their house alone. It seemed the Slytherins were not looking forward to the upcoming weeks as well. Snape glowered at those who dared to audibly groan before a sick sort of smile graced his expression causing a ripple of utmost fear through the students before him.  
  
"I will be choosing your partners for these upcoming weeks as well, seeing as how if you side with the same person of your given experience, it won't help you in the least." Harry inevitably knew where this was leading and closed his eyes when his own name was called, followed by the typical person Snape would pair him with in order to ensure the boy had as hard a time as possible- no pun intended. Harry was sure the Potions professor didn't know anything about what had happened between him and Draco, not as though the heated snog had led to anything of actual importance.  
  
When Snape recited the list of partners he felt both the glares of Draco and Potter on him. And smiled.


	7. Sinister Paradise

**Title:** One That Stood Alone 

**Author:** tsubasagahoushi 

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco, Hermione/Ron, Luminos(OC)/??? 

**Disclaimer:** I am a poor, poor college student who does not own anything... much less the rights to these characters. Those are all the great genius of J.K. Rowling and the respective publishers... 

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews sak and Brenna8. Sorry it's taken this long to get the next chapter out; I swear to try my best to get back on a weekly schedule of chapters. More is touched upon between Harry and Draco and it seems others are picking up on this as well. There are some underlying hints as to one of the main aspects of this story which I'll get into major detail in the next chapter or the one after. Voldemort makes an appearance as well... can't forget the Snakeman. Reviews are my life's blood so do please send me your suggestions, comments, criticisms and death threats.

* * *

The Potions classroom rumbled with the sounds of chairs being moved and students scurrying over to their reluctant partners. It seemed that Snape had paired everyone with someone they typically did not work with. If one didn't know better, one would think the Potions Master was trying to make them fail their N.E.W.T.s by pairing them as such. Pansy and Blaise hesitated by Draco, glancing at Potter and back to the blond while whispering hurried words. Draco scowled at them and, with a sharp nod, told them to worry about their own partners (Pansy was working with Granger and Blaise with Finnigan). 

Draco sat at his table, slowly taking out his parchment and quills to place them neatly in front of him. When the chair beside him remained empty, he turned his regal stare to meet Potter's defiant glare. Neither seemed willing to move to the other's table. Their stare deadlocked for a good few minutes as the classroom settled down as partners were found and parchment spread for notes. Harry rolled his eyes. He didn't wish to draw anymore attention from Snape than needed. Roughly grabbing his bag, he grudgingly walked over to the Slytherin's table. The smirk on those pale-pink lips only agitated Harry further and he tossed his bag onto the polished wooden tabletop. 

"You will be brewing a highly potent potion for protection. This is not your average muttered charm, Mr. Weasley, so do please pay attention," Ron jerked his head up from where it had been buried in his arms. The redhead was most distressed that he was to work with Milicent Bulstrude. "Now, if any of you can answer this: what is most important in the highest of protection potions?" Hermione's hand shot into the air causing Snape to roll his black eyes. He waited several seconds before it seemed no one else was willing to submit themselves to his scrutiny. "Yes, Ms. Granger?" 

"The most important factor in charms and potions of protection is intent. The caster must fully wish for the complete security of the person for whom the potion is being brewed. If there is even the slightest of doubts, then the potion will falter and lose half its strength, if not more." Snape's lip curled at the detailed response but soon his sneer was back in place. 

"True, Ms. Granger, but intent is far more important for spells which are immediately cast. Such high-level potions assume the intent is present if such extremes are to be taken." Hermione's brow furrowed and the turning of the wheels in her head were almost visible. Another hand was raised. 

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" 

"Blood, Professor." The entire class seemed to simultaneously take in a breath while Harry's back straightened, his eyes darting to glance at the blond next to him for the first time since he had sat down. Draco's hair fell slightly in his face but not messily as Harry's did. Green eyes followed the hair to the lips as he remembered their soft texture. Remembered the crimson staining the pouting mouth, a rouge tongue darting out to lick at the coppery fluid. Harry's mouth suddenly felt very dry and he couldn't seem to conjure the anger towards the blond which he had so desperately clung to earlier. He had sworn to direct nothing but hostility towards the Slytherin but even that he couldn't maintain for long. 

"Potter." Harry jerked his gaze from Draco's mouth when it moved to speak. Licking at his lips, he desperately swallowed past the strain in his throat. 

"W-what?" 

"You've been staring at me for the past five minutes while everyone else has already started to get the ingredients for the potion," he drawled. The familiar smirk upturned the lips and Draco leaned back, propping his head on his hand. "If I didn't know better I'd think you were positively smitten with me." Harry growled, blushing despite himself. He managed a small harrumph in response before checking the ingredients needed on the blackboard. He was met with the cold, calculating stare of the Potions professor. As if things couldn't get any worse. Now sodding SNAPE of all people had caught him admiring the blond Slytherin. Well, he didn't damned well care. 

The snide remark from the Potions Master never came and Harry brushed it off as a fluke- not even thinking he was graced with so much as a smidget of good luck. No doubt the information was filed away in the professor's mind for later use when Harry least expected it. Rummaging in the storage cabinet, Harry chastised himself for giving in to the memories in the first place. He had decided to forget all about Draco and the confused jumble of emotions the blond evoked in Harry. He had been numb of all feeling in the past two weeks, not even allowed to ensure his existence. He felt himself slowly fading and even if thoughts of Malfoy could spur some sort of life into his being, he was willing to take the chance. Then it struck him. The thought was morbid and Harry knew it, but his heart beat slightly faster at the prospect. Draco had said blood was needed. Harry would be able to cut himself at least a little. At least enough to confirm that his veins still pulsed with some sort of strength. 

Draco raised one brow as Harry returned to the table, worn traces of a ghostly smile on the boy's features. Yet this smile was not the vibrant one he had seen on Harry's face in years past or even the strained one the boy put on for his friends. Draco wasn't sure where this came from but was positive he didn't like it. They worked with unusual ease, Draco instructing Harry on what to cut and when to add it to the cauldron. It was only when he saw the flash of the blade in the shaking hand that Draco darted forward, his thigh brushing against Harry's as he physically pushed the boy away from the cauldron. 

"_What do you think you're doing, Potter?_" he hissed through pristine pearl teeth. Glazed forest eyes met Draco's before the sparking emerald returned to their murky depths. 

"What do you bloody think I'm doing, Malfoy? You said it yourself; the potion's crucial ingredient is blood." 

"Not from you it isn't." With a twist of his arm, Draco tore the blade from Harry's hands before the boy could cut himself. "You've already proven you can't be trusted with a knife, Potter. We need a few drops not a bloody waterfall- literally." Draco knew he was overreacting but he absolutely refused to see Harry's blood spilled again, and by his own hand no less. His stomach twisted in on itself causing his breath to be shallow and heavy. When he had seen the glint of the blade he had panicked, the image of a pale and convulsing Harry playing once more for his mind's eye. 

"Worried about me, Malfoy?" The voice was low, laced with a certain huskiness which caused a shiver to crawl up Draco's spine and he narrowed his eyes, lifting his head in defiance. 

"Leave that for your Gryffindor prats, Potter," the surname was spat with more venom than Draco intended, but Harry had touched a bit too close to home for his liking. Slicing forcefully into the meat of his thumb, he allowed for precisely four drops to fall into the cauldron before pulling back his hand from the now bubbling fluid. There was a light brush against his thigh, his eyelids fluttering closed at the intimate contact. It was one thing for him to be the aggressor but to receive such a touch in return... Mercury eyes flashed open when he felt the smooth heat of a tongue wrapping itself about his finger. Hissing in a low breath, his gaze met devilishly defiant emerald. Biting at his lip, Draco took a furtive glance about the room to make sure no one was watching them. Surely enough, each table was too concerned with the importance of their given task to heed anyone else. Snape was currently helping with Milicent and Weasley's smoking cauldron. 

Draco's heavy mind was too painfully aroused to realize the full weight of what Potter had just done. Silken lips slid from his slick digit before brushing against his ear as Harry leaned over the table to reach for Draco's notes, a casual move to anyone who may glance over. 

"Now _you're_ mine, Draco." His throat worked at swallowing, stunned by Harry's words so close to his skin. Refusing to acknowledge the heavy strain in his chest at the intimacies, Draco watched as Harry returned to stirring the cauldron as though nothing had happened at all. Gathering his wits about him, Draco refused to be the one left breathless. 

One manicured hand slid to his side to rest on the raven haired boy's thigh, slowly kneeding at the taut muscle. He smirked as Harry blinked several times in succession before continuing to stir. His hand slid higher before cupping the ever-hardening length. There was a hitched breath covered by a cough, Harry's hand dropping the metal stirring rod. Before it could fall entirely into the cauldron, Draco deftly caught it with his free hand while the other discreetly released Harry and returned to his own thigh. 

Leaning forward as though peering into the cauldron, it was Draco's lips which brushed against Harry's ear. "My room. After Potions. In five minutes."

* * *

"Harry, mate, fancy a game of chess before dinner?" 

"No, Ron, I-I have to finish up some things. In the library. Research." Harry finally met the puzzled blue gaze and he wracked his hazy brain for what could possibly end any further questioning. The remainder of Potions had been a game of caresses and whispered breaths against sensitive skin. Harry was ready to explode- or implode if he was left to talk with Ron any longer. "It has to do with Professor Luminos." The blue eyes widened before averting his direct gaze. Quickly gathering his things, Harry haphazardly tossed them into his bag, throwing it over one shoulder. 

"I'll see you," Not sure how long his meeting with Malfoy would last, Harry hurriedly continued, "...later." Ducking his head in a nod of goodbye, Harry darted his way out of the room. Three pairs of eyes followed his rushed exit. Snape's proud sneer was on his face as he desperately disregarded all thoughts of exactly what his godson and Potter would be doing, merely glad that the two were closer for Draco's sake. Pansy pursed her lips together before walking over to Blaise, leading him away by the arm. 

"I think Harry's been around you a bit too much, Hermione. He almost seemed excited about going to the library." Hermione nodded once noncommitally. The wheels in her head were turning, and she wasn't sure she understood where they were leading her. 

Harry's cheeks were flushed when he knocked on the door seven minutes later. It swung back to reveal one smirking Draco Malfoy leaning against the frame. "You're late, Potter." 

"Peeves." Pulled by the front of his robes, the door swung shut behind him with a slam. Their lips met in a passionate rush of teeth and tongue, Harry backing into the room as Draco pushed him with one hand while the other freed him from his cloak. The back of his knees hit the edge of the sofa and Harry fell into the lush cushions, pulling the Slytherin on top of him. It didn't make sense, none of this did, but he could feel the pounding in his chest and the heat that threatened to burn him from the inside. This rush was just as assuring as cutting if not better. Harry didn't know why he was kissing Draco Malfoy, their tongues dancing and dueling in one another's mouths. And he didn't care. All he knew was that he felt alive. 

Draco trailed his lips down the side of Harry's face, nibbling and kissing down the exposed neck. Pulling free the gaudy Gryffindor tie, he unbuttoned the shirt to expose one shoulder. Harry's fingers dug deeper into Draco's hips when his tongue swirled along the spot right where the neck flowed into shoulder, the twisting ends of raven hair resting against the base. One hand slid over Draco's back to cup his bum, the other following shortly after. Thoroughly licking the tender spot on Harry's neck, he pulled back and lightly blew across the wet flesh. 

Harry's entire body tingled in a most uncomfortably wonderful way and he bucked his hips while pulling the blond tightly against him. The contact elicited a loud moan from his lips, Draco's teeth biting into his skin as their groins came into contact. Draco released the reddened skin for the fullness of Harry's lips. Grinding into the Gryffindor, mercury met emerald as both boys felt their stomachs tightening with that familiar strain. 

"Mine," Draco's voice mingled with Harry's heavy gasps as he pulled on the boy's lower lip with his teeth. Releasing the soft flesh, he tangled his hands in the silken raven strands. "You're mine, Harry." Pulling the boy's arm from its place on his back, he pushed up the sleeve to reveal the array of scars which marred the skin there. Draco proceeded to kiss each one, looking at Harry's puzzled face clouded with lust the entire time. "And," A kiss. "Don't you ever," A lick. "Ever," A kiss. "Do this again." He took in two of Harry's long fingers, swirling his tongue about them much in the same way had been done to him in Potions. 

Harry's breath came in heavy gasps, his eyes cloudy with real emotion as he watched Draco mimic his own actions. Growling in response, he pushed Draco off him and onto the floor, rolling after the boy. Staddling those elegant hips, Harry was glad to see the surprise flash in those silver-blue eyes. Leaning down to kiss the flushed lips, his hands worked at the blond's shirt and tie. Only satisfied when the shirt was divulged of the boy's torso entirely, Harry moved his mouth to suck at the hardened nipple. His lips spread into a grin when the gasp came from Draco this time, a pale hand twisting into his hair. 

"Fuck. Fuck, Harry..." 

"Not quite yet, Draco." His eyes glittered like jewels as his hair fell about his face when he leaned over the other boy. The hand at the nape of his neck pulled him down for another ravaging kiss, Draco's hips grinding upwards into Harry's. Their kisses became deeper and far more desperate as the tension tightened in their bellies. 

"I'll be yours. I'll be.." Harry was cut off by another bruising kiss. Pulling away from the swollen Slytherin's lips, he looked down at the flushed Draco Malfoy beneath him. He should have been disturbed. He should have ran screaming from the room. But he needed this. Gods, did he need this. He didn't need to be the Boy Who Lived here. He just had to be Harry... and he was allowed to live. Sliding lower, he took the band of Draco's trousers in his teeth, the button pattering against the stone floor a few inches away. 

"Harry... you don't have to..." Placing two fingers against the panting mouth, Draco's heat beneath him was saying something completely and utterly different. Smiling coyly, he felt almost the same daring which pulsed through his veins when he played Quidditch, ready and willing to do anything to accomplish his goal. Sliding his hand down to the zipper, he slowly undid it while keeping eye contact with Draco. Something swirled in those mercury depths but Harry didn't dare chase it down. They were two boys releasing emotions and experiencing one another. It wasn't anything more than that. 

"I'll be yours, but you'll belong to me in turn." Draco hissed as the cold air only hardened his cock further upon exposure from the satin boxers. He almost lost all semblance of control and nearly cried for release. Harry's gaze was feral and his tongue darted across his lips. "Always." It was Draco's turn for lights to explode before his very eyes as his world fell around him.

* * *

Harry fell backwards, his head knocking against the floor and bouncing forwards only to fall back against the hard stone. Blinking rapidly, he audibly cursed and tried in vain to stop the room from spinning about his head. The figure stood over him, wand drawn towards him with a mad glint in those midnight blue eyes. 

"_Legilimens._" Harry's brain was still rocking in his skull prohibiting him from properly blocking the attack on his mind. Clenching his eyes tightly closed against the intrusion, memories glided by his closed lids as they were seen by his attacker. 

_Harry lay on his thin mattress at the Dursley's, eyes staring at the ceiling above him as the birds chirped outside. There were screams from below but the prone boy did not heed their calls. Thundering footfalls on the stairs crashed through the walls but still he did not move. Tired green eyes blinked as the door was torn open to reveal a purple-faced, livid Vernon. There were shouts- accusations of things Harry couldn't possibly have done since he hadn't left his room in days unless it was to cook or clean. The familiar unbuckling of the belt could be seen from over the massive roll of stomach fat which draped over the older man's waistband. Fingers dug into his arm and Harry was forcefully thrown from the bed, but he did nothing more than blink at the violent motion. He merely winced as his head crashed against the corner of a table, a thin line of blood trailing its way down his face. Then the punishment began as the belt cracked into his back..._

___It was a younger Harry- summer after fifth year at the Dursley's once more. He sat on the same familiar mattress, legs pulled tightly against him with his back pressed against the headboard. His bottom lip quivered slightly and gaze unfocused. Hedwig flew through his window, insistently pecking at him as she outstreched one leg with a letter. Harry uncurled from his ball, slowly untying the note from his beloved owl. She turned her head at an angle, looking up at her owner with curious eyes before lightly pecking Harry on the cheek. His expression did not change, lips remaining in a firm line drawn across his sullen face. The letter was from Dumbledore. Feebly opening it, he scanned the words before dropping it off the side of his bed. It was his fault. His. Yet he could feel nothing... Dumbledore was telling him of ways in which to free himself of the guilt but Harry did not want to listen. The guilt was the only thing he could feel right now. The guilt was what kept him alive, if barely. He caught the shimmer of something from beneath the official parchment, green eyes narrowing in confusion. And it dawned on him. He could make sure... make sure that he could feel more than guilt even if it was pain. The blade cut into flesh and Harry hissed his godfather's name through clenched teeth..._

___His throat was locked tight with unrestrained emotion- the likes of which he hadn't felt since Sirius had fallen through the veil. The air rushed about him and he pulled the broom upwards as he made a hurried landing on the worn lawn which surely had seen better days. His heart hammered in his chest and his hand wrapped itself about his wand. Dashing into 12 Grimmauld Place, Harry screamed for Lupin. He cried out the man's name, desperately raking his eyes about the dreary home. Sirius' mother began her yelling as he passed her in the hall. There was a light at the end- behind a closed door he could make out whimpers and cries. Bursting into the room, emerald eyes widened in fear as they took in the convulsing sight of Remus Lupin before them. There was a guttural scream of raw anger and Harry's world pinpointed down to one person and one person alone- Bellatrix Lestrange..._

__Harry's eyes flashed wide open, anger pulsating beneath their emerald depths. They shone with absolute fury at the uncalled for invasion of his private thoughts, hidden memories. Pushing back with all the force of one very pissed off Harry Potter, his own mind forced its way into that of Luminos Black. The professor fell backwards at the sudden attack on his mental being, hitting the far wall as his eyes clenched shut. 

_Luminos was a small child, wavy black hair framing his midnight eyes in a most adorable fashion. Or at least so all the women who doted on his every whim cooed into his ear. His father did, after all, fancy several women on several occasions- and some even simultaneously. He said it was in the blood; few Blacks knew how to use it fully to their advantage. The young boy- no more than ten- ambled over to a family portrait which stood on a most elaborate fireplace. The small boy asked his father about the other boy in the picture, an older and very striking resemblance to himself. Sirius Black. Your cousin. A fine young man, just as he should strive to be. His hair was tousled and he was pulled into an overbearing hug which smelled of summer and father..._

_It was dark. Heavy breathing disrupted still air and a strangled moan echoed in the small closet._

_'I knew you'd like that,' Luminos whispered into his lover's ear. The other man grunted in response before taking the upperhand and pushing the mahogany-haired man against the opposite wall._

_'You've changed your hair.' Groping hands and excited gasps filled the empty space as lips and teeth continued their relentless attack on his person. Luminos managed a strangled response too low to hear, but the body which was pressed against him did. There was the slightest of sneers in the dark before a noncommital shrug. 'At least you no longer look like Black.' The breaths became shorter, the gasps quicker, and the blackness cloaked the two men as their passions heightened..._

_There were cloaked figures all around, the location unknown but unimportant. An imposing figure glided into the room causing several of the figures to bow, others falling completely to their knees in reverence. The man smiled, pushing back his cloak to reveal the form of Tom Riddle as a young man. Gasps echoed throughout the room and their master smiled, a slitted tongue of a snake darting in his upturned mouth._

_'As you see I stand before you as a youth; my power is strong enough to rise me from death and bring me to my prime. Soon actions will be taken and you too may have a taste of such strength.' Lord Voldemort raised his head, the red eyes of a snake appraising his followers. His serpentine stare lingered on one knelt figure at the forefront of the crowd. He motioned for the person to stand and come near him. Voldemort's hand danced along the face beneath the draped hood before casually pushing it off to reveal the man standing next to him. Luminos Black regarded the rest of the Death Eaters with a stony gaze..._

Harry scrambled backwards, grasping for his wand. He had begun to trust him! He had actually begun to feel some sort of- and he was a Death Eater! Wand shaking, his forehead ached with the dull throb of pain from the recent memory of Voldemort. Even such things were enough to send him into aching bouts of physical agony now. The midnight blue eyes flashed open. 

"Harry, you must understand..." 

"Understand what? That you're a bloody spy for Voldemort?" His voice was dead cold but betrayed him as it cracked near the end. Luminos' shoulders were slumped, his hands slowly raised in surrender. 

"If you would just allow me to explain..." Harry shook his head, teeth biting deeply into the flesh of his lower lip to reassure that this was indeed happening. The empty hole which swirled in his body stretched further, threatening to envelop him entirely. Yet the memories of Bellatrix were fresh in his mind thus in turn the events of last year's foiled battle. He was suddenly reminded of third year and those pleading blue eyes were all too familiar. Harry found he didn't have the strength to neither hex Luminos into oblivion nor listen to the man's explanations. 

Lowering his wand, Harry averted his gaze from his professor. He suddenly felt horribly tired as though he would collapse right there, unable to move any further. It all seemed too much for him and he could feel himself cracking. Once he cracked there would be no piecing him back together again. "Not now. I don't want to hear it." Dejected, Harry left the room without so much as a glance back at the figure lying slumped against the wall. 

Luminos closed his eyes, one hand resting atop his cloak over his inner left arm. And cursed.

* * *

Draco sauntered into the Great Hall Saturday morning for breakfast, his eyes raking over the Gryffindor table for that familiar head of unruly black hair. He hadn't seen Harry since their heated snog on Thursday. Draco hadn't been to meals yesterday due to a certain letter from his father which had been delivered that morning but he pushed the thought down from the forefront of his mind. Three weeks. He had three weeks until Samhain. 

Sitting across from Blaise, Draco casually reached for milk and poured it into his cereal; the house elves didn't seem to put nearly as much effort into meals over the weekend seeing as how not as many showed up for them due to Hogsmead trips and the like. Hogsmeade... Draco scowled at his meager breakfast. Harry was seeing that Ravenclaw tramp today. Perhaps he could make for a disruption of their so-called 'date'. 

"Drakey-poo?" 

"What the bloody hell, Blaise?!" His eyes bore into the Slytherin boy across from him, head propped casually on one hand whilst the other made small circles in Draco's direction. 

"Now that I have your attention, you lovesick fool..." Draco's glare was cold enough to cause shivers to rise along Blaise's spine but he paid no heed, merely shrugging his shoulders in feigned nonchalance and continuing as though there hadn't been an assassination attempt via the look from the blond. "It seems something is amiss with the Gryffindor Golden Boy." Draco's eyebrow shot up at this comment and he leaned forward in a conspiratory manner. Such a move was common amongst the Slytherin table especially due to recent events; it was hard to tell who was on the Dark Lord's side so most conversations were closed off, not even given a second thought despite the suspicious nature of their whispers. 

"Such as?" 

"I was talking with Seamus earlier and- don't look at me like that! He's a perfectly fine bloke and mighty funny if I may say so- which I am. And I wouldn't bloody know this unless I was talking to him so you best be pleased." Draco seemed to accept this as a reason and nodded once. Afterall he had marked a Gryffindor as his own so it would be rather hypocritical of him to accuse Blaise of being a traitor or something equally inane. "Now as I was saying, it seems Potter didn't return until late last night and he went right up to his room without so much as a word to anyone. Not even the Weasel." Blaise cast his eyes downward, knowing that the next thing he would say was going to send his friend into a bout of anger no matter how much the blond denied his emotional attachment to Potter. 

"Seamus found blood in the sink this morning. Potter was already gone before they could ask him about it and apparently he's been having nightmares since term began but last night's were exceptionally worse..." His voice tapered off as Blaise prepared for damage control. Draco's eyes narrowed a fraction and his chin was lifted ever so slightly higher; he was raving mad. The boy's knuckles grew white as they painfully gripped the silverware. Mercury eyes flashed back over to the Gryffindor table only to see Granger and Weasley whispering closely together before focusing on the main doors, words frozen on their lips. 

Harry Potter had stepped through the doors, eyes glazed and skin pale. 

Several things happened at once. Draco abruptly stood from his place, knocking his chair over in the process. He strode over to the Gryffindor, his vision tunneled only to see the ragged boy standing at the entrance. 

Blaise cursed under his breath and grabbed Pansy's arm just as she made her way over to them at the Slytherin table. Muttering, "Damage control," Blaise and Pansy hurriedly followed after the mad Slytherin prince. 

Hermione and Ron stood, making their way over to Harry as well, only to pause momentarily in their stride when they were cut off by Malfoy. 

"Potter, a word. Now." Underlying anger flared through Draco's voice causing the Gryffindors to furrow their brows in confusion, Blaise and Pansy taking in deep breaths. There was going to be major damage control. Draco gripped Harry's arm with an iron strength, pulling the wide-eyed boy behind him and out of the Great Hall. Blaise and Pansy stepped in front of the two Gryffindors before anymore could be said. 

The Great Hall erupted in shouts as the doors slammed shut behind Draco and Harry. 

Draco didn't stop until they reached the empty classroom; his private rooms were too far considering he was just about to burst with anger. Pulling the compliant Potter in behind him, Draco closed the door and proceeded to slam the Gryffindor hard against it. Reaching for the scarred arm, it was only when he pushed back the sleeve that he got a response from the weary boy. 

"Sod off, Malfoy!" He pulled back his arm and clutched it against his chest but it was too late; Draco had seen what he needed. Nostrils flaring, Draco pinned Harry against the door, hands on opposite sides of the boy's head. 

"I told you to never do such things again," the words were hissed through clenched teeth. 

"I'm bloody well tired of people instructing me on what I can and cannot do! This is the only way I can remain sane and yet you all insist upon forcing me to stop," Harry pushed at Draco's chest with one hand, freeing himself from the door. Draco's eyes only narrowed but he remained quiet as Harry continued in his rant, cheeks flushed slightly in anger. "I'm not going to fucking kill myself so will you please stop worrying? It was an accident that night you found me in the owlery; I have never cut with the intention to die. I need to make sure I'm alive and the only sodding way I can feel as though this body still lives is when I'm with you or if I cut so unless you want me to suddenly collapse an--" Harry's words were abruptly stopped as angry lips silenced them with a bruising kiss. Harry staggered backwards with the force of it, his back slamming against the closed door. 

Draco's anger had all but dissipated with those words from Harry's mouth. He wanted to be with him. He, Draco Malfoy, was the only person who could make Harry Potter feel alive. The ironic thing of it all was that Harry, in turn, was the only person that had been able to make Draco feel real emotion. Draco's tongue plunged into Harry's mouth, ravaging the boy thoroughly. This elicited a heavy moan from the raven haired boy which only heightened Draco's arousal. 

Harry wrapped one leg around the blond, pulling the boy directly against him. This was what he had wanted when he had awoken last night from the terrible dream. This was where he wanted to be when his body shook with unrestrainable fright. This was what he wanted to do last night. But he hadn't the nerve to track down the blond Slytherin and instead had given into the habitual sensation of razor cutting into skin. Yet this... Draco ground into Harry, lips trailing down his neck to suck at his tender spot. Oh, gods, this was what he had craved more than anything else. 

"Come to me next time," Draco's lips brushed against the reddening upraised skin on Harry's neck. Pulling back from the Gryffindor, Draco's hands rested on the small hips of the boy against him. "If you feel the need- no matter what the time-" his words were angry, before his voice softened, "You come to me and I will show you life." 

The ghost of a smile graced Harry's lips and he nodded once before pulling the blond tightly against him once more.

* * *

"One does not suddenly decide to join the Dark Lord." 

"Ah, but I was never truly given the decision in the first place, now was I, Pansy dear? Besides, the dreary ceremonial garb is growing on me, I must admit. In a sexy sort of mysterious way. Don't you agree, Blaise?" 

"Don't try to bring me in on this one, Malfoy." 

Draco was resting casually on the black sofa, picking apart the many feathers which joined to form a most elaborate and costly quill his father had bought him for his last year at Hogwarts. Raising one brow and frowning his features in a display of mock hurt, he tossed a stray feather at Zabini who sat at the armchair a few feet away. The fellow Slytherin shrugged, batting away the floating feather. Pansy stood with her hands crossed in front of her, positively livid as she would tap her designer shoes against the stone floor every few seconds between the berating. 

"After what your father did to you-" 

"Which is none of your concern." Draco sat up from his languid position on the couch. This was all too remnant of when Pansy had insisted on he and Potter; as though there was such a thing, really. Draco had merely done what she had told him and was protecting what was HIS. He had thought of all people Pansy would understand since it was she who had given him the bloody suggestion. Not to mention he and Potter were linked in more ways than one... He licked his lips slightly at the memory of the metallic taste of crimson copper. 

"If you give into them then where does that leave us?" Draco met Pansy's stare and noticed the slight quivering at the corner of her mouth along with the stubborn look on her face which could only mean she was scared. The room grew deathly silent. Draco knew that if he surrendered to them that would leave both Blaise and Pansy susceptible to the Dark Lord's recruitment- so to speak. He was the firmest opposition and the strongest foothold in Slytherin house's refusal of the Dark Mark. And he had all but pleaded for it after having been deemed as unworthy. 

"So why aren't you at Hogsmeade now, eh, Draco?" Blaise's lighthearted, almost teasing, question broke the heavy silence. Draco nearly snapped at the dark haired boy; Harry was not any easier a topic of conversation amongst them. 

"And since when, Blaise darling, have I been Potter's keeper?" 

"I never said anything about dear Harry, now did I?" Draco scowled at the common use of Harry's name and glared icy daggers at the boy. Blaise merely shrugged his shoulders, leaning further into the lush cushions of the chair. Pansy was leaning on the armrest of the free chair when she spoke lowly, almost to herself. 

"Shouldn't you be? Afterall, the Dark Lord is growing in power and Potter being away from the Headmaster's protection..." Unknowing to the common population at Hogwarts, not all Slytherins detested the twinkling-eyed headmaster. They may not agree with all of his actions but he was acknowledged and respected for his power; as was one of the ways of Slytherin. Draco scoffed at Pansy's thoughtful questioning, anger building at his friends' insistence on assuming he and Potter were anything more than... well, whatever they were. 

"I assure you that if the Dark Lord were to be making a move I would know. Surely Father would..." Draco's voice trailed off as the cryptic words from the letter he had received Friday suddenly came to mind. Mercury eyes widened in sudden realization and his heart plummeted south. 

Before Blaise or Pansy could protest or question his sudden change in demeanor, Draco was gone from the room.

* * *

Harry nodded, smiling weakly in response to Cho's words. They had met up at the Three Broomsticks and ate dinner which he had picked at between blips of conversation. Cho had definately matured since their brief relationship in fifth year; the childish ways in which she had used Harry for her own emotional baggage were long gone. Before him sat an adult and one of the exceedingly good aurors- she had been able to take advanced classes in her seventh year at Hogwarts and managed to graduate Auror training in a record time of one year. Harry also knew this had to do with the frantic need of more aurors to replace those who were quickly dying in battle. The thought sobered his mood but his attention was drawn away by a light laugh from the former Ravenclaw before him. He honestly was enjoying the time spent with Cho- after first mentioning serious topics the Chinese girl seemed to have quickly caught on and they were now talking of Quidditch. 

"I have to say, it's one of the biggest things I miss about Hogwarts. The thrill of the game- I suppose I find it now being an Auror." She smiled and nodded once, long strands of deep black hair tumbling down her shoulder. Surprisingly, this movement caused no sort of arousal or attraction in Harry whatsoever. Instead, thoughts of his actions with a certain Slytherin this morning vividly returned to the forefront of his mind. 

"Harry, are you alright? You look rather flushed; are you warm?" She peered across the table at him, curiosity in her eyes. Harry reached for his glass of water, the condensation seeping into the suddenly sweaty palms of his hands. Drinking the water as a man dying of thirst, Harry only stopped when the glass was empty. Blinking rapidly, he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. His entire body had flushed with a most uncomfortable heat at the thought of Draco Malfoy. Not sure how to deal with this, he was brought back to reality by the short gasps of laughter from the girl across from him. 

"S-sorry... about that..." The flush returned ever so slightly but was now one of mere embarassment. Running one hand through his hair, he tugged at the roots with his fingers. Cho waved her hand, gathering her wits about her. 

"No, no, that's not it, Harry. But you must tell me- who is it?" Eyebrows raising in question, Harry leaned into his chair in complete confusion. "I know that flush anywhere- it was directed at me quite a few times. You're positively smitten with someone, aren't you?" Harry was suddenly reminded of Potions, not but a few days prior. _'If I didn't know better I'd think you were positively smitten with me.'_ Oh, good gods... 

"Harry? Harry? Oh... I'm sorry..." Cho was looking anywhere but at him, fingering her empty butterbeer mug while pulling on her bottom lip with her teeth in embarassment. Reaching out, Harry gently placed one hand over hers. Almond eyes looked up at him and he couldn't help but smile the barest of true smiles. Cho had kept in contact with him after her graduation- apologizing on numerous occasions for her previous actions when they had been 'dating.' Harry didn't want to lie to her and if anyone would know if he WAS smitten, it would be her. 

"No, you're right. At least... at least I think. Maybe. I don't know." His brow creased in confusion. Even he wasn't sure what to think of Draco anymore. He knew the blond was the only one who made him feel as though he was actually alive; not just passing through the days as a shell of a person meant to fulfill some arcane prophecy. With Draco, Harry actually felt as though he could be himself which was something he had lost all that time ago when he first realized what being the Boy Who Lived actually meant. But it was complicated. 

"Why don't we talk about this somewhere more private?" Cho smiled knowlingly. The look on Harry's face was the same she had seen on her own concerning Cedric in the past. Her chest ached at the memory of Cedric Diggory but he was the reason she was here right now. He was the reason she became an Auror. She didn't blame Harry. She didn't want to push Harry into being what he wasn't, either. Cho Chang had grown up, finally knowing the loss of a close loved one. From what she had heard, Harry had been subjected to far too many. If she could help in any way with whomever it was Harry was so smitten with, she would. 

As they walked through the busy evening streets of Hogmeade towards the quiet sanctuary of the woods which lined the town, a lean figure stepped in front of Cho and Harry, a flush of pink marring his porcelain skin and his breath coming in heavy gasps. Coming to an abrupt halt, Harry's confusion only mounted. 

"Malfoy?" Draco's eyes darted about before he reached out to take Harry's hand. Cho caught the flash of emotion in those emerald eyes- noting now that they were now in fact emerald when before they had been a mere shadow of their actual luminosity. Calculating eyes darted between the two and a knowing smile overcame her face. So it was none other than Draco Malfoy that Harry had fallen for. 

"We have to get out of here. Now. Voldemort is coming and there is going to be an attack on Hogsmeade any minute." Cho gasped at the casual use of the name. The Slytherin merely rolled his eyes at her, tugging at Harry as he motioned to move away from the crowded street. "Would you bloody well hurry up, Potter?!" 

"How would you know that?" Harry's voice was low, the slight hints of amusement which Cho had strived for that entire night now dead, replaced with an icy tone. Draco merely scoffed, waving away the comment with his free hand. 

"That's of no importance. Really, now, we must be-" 

"Then I have to stay. I have to help." Both Cho and Draco looked at the raven haired boy as though he were mad. Pulling his hand free from the firm grasp of the soft skin, Harry took a step away from both disapproving stares. "There are so many people here! I have to-!" The sky was illuminated with a sickly green, screams from those on the street soon erupting into mass hysteria. 

The Dark Mark lit the evening sky.


	8. Erotic Agony

**Title:** One That Stood Alone 

**Author:** tsubasagahoushi 

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco, Hermione/Ron, Luminos(OC)/??? 

**Disclaimer:** I am a poor, poor college student who does not own anything... much less the rights to these characters. Those are all the great genius of J.K. Rowling and the respective publishers... 

**A/N:** First and foremost, I am horribly sorry for it taking so long for this chapter. I got stumped and just wasn't able to write for a few weeks, then school sort of got in the way like it usually does. I think this chapter may seem too short but I didn't want to add anymore because it felt good where it left off and the next set of events that are going to take place aren't going to be short... so I apologize for it's pathetic size. Thanks for the reviews- tsuzukuu, geminidragon, sak, smilez, cmere1, LMG! They really spurred me into getting my ass in gear to finish this chapter.. I re-updated this because initially I edited the shag scene but somehow it hasn't sat right with me. So, you are forewarned... **there will be somewhat explicit male/male sex- if this does not sit well with you turn back now because it's not about to stop anytime soon! **

* * *

"You two get back to Hogwarts now." Cho's voice was colder, more calculating, but the emotion was obvious on her face; the young girl was panicked and scared yet still deeper was an overwhelming sense of protection. Harry was important to her and Cedric had given his last breath to save him. Her gaze shifted to Draco Malfoy. "Get Harry out of here. Please." That said, Cho took off running down the crowded street filling with frenzied and terrifed wizards and witches alike. 

"You heard her, Potter." Draco reached for Harry's arm once more but his grasp only closed on empty air. Draco's entire body stiffened and his heart slammed in his chest as he watched Harry dart after the Ravenclaw. "Blasted fucking Potter don't you ever listen to what people tell you?!" 

Draco tore after Harry, pushing his way through the crowd and cursing all the way. What in all the seven hells did Harry think he was doing?! Chang was a trained Auror and he was still a student; there was no way they were going to win against a swarm of Death Eaters and possibly the Dark Lord himself. Draco's throat closed at the thought. Oh gods, he couldn't be seen. He couldn't be seen here. Surely if he was seen his father would make him... 

The Slytherin cursed, realizing he had lost sight of the bobbing black head in the midst of his thoughts. Growling, he physically pushed a screaming woman from his way. "Honestly, just get inside and get out of my fucking way if you're so bloody terrified, you wailing banshee of a woman!" Draco ran a few steps further but stumbled when the familiar coldness tugged at his body. The tattered black robes of the dementors blackened the sky. _A twisted smile and icy hands forced their way past his elegant cloak. The eyes of his mother and father watched on as the tongue of a snake tasted his skin._

__"_Expecto Patronum!_" Draco tore himself from the memory, his eyes coming to focus around him. He had fallen in the middle of the street- luckily after most had run for shelter inside from the dementors. His heart hammered in his chest and only that familiar voice had been able to pull him from the painful memory. It had changed. Instead of the usual agony from his father's punishment in first year, the dementors now triggered the events which had transgressed this summer. His skin crawled at the sensation of the slithering tongue against his skin. 

"_EXPECTO PATRONUM!_" Mercury eyes snapped open, forcing down the sickening thoughts which replayed themselves over and over again in the presence of the ghastly beings. Scrambling up from the ground, Draco ran towards the lone figure which stood in the street ahead of him, wand outstretched towards the swarm of dementors. So Voldemort had gotten them entirely on his side, after all. Nothing but a light mist wafted from Harry's wand causing the dementors to draw ever closer to the Gryffindor. To his Gryffindor. 

"_Expecto Patronum!_" Harry turned at the unexpected voice to see the dark mist swiftly heading directly towards him. His mouth dropped open in surprise when the mist took shape to appear as Death- the magickal creature which cared for the thestrals and led souls away from this plain of existence. Knarled, bony hands tightened around a scythe which Death pulled high over its head. Harry threw himself instinctively to the ground and watched as the patronus drove the dementors away with several arcs of its blade. 

"You fucking prat!" Harry found himself pulled up by one arm. His eyes narrowed and mouth dropped open to retort when emerald met shaking blue. The glaciers in Draco's eyes were gone, the gray giving way to a tumulous swirl of color. The blond's jaw was firmly clenched against betrayal of any emotion but his eyes gave it all away despite himself. Harry's voice caught in his throat and he found no words of anger to scream back at the Slytherin boy. 

"I have to help," Harry said in a low, yet determined voice. 

"Bloody lot of sodding help you're going to be, Potter! You can't even project a patronus in your state and given the nature of things I would say that fucking well tells how much help you'll be!" 

"And just what do you mean by 'in your state', Malfoy?" Harry jerked himself away from the blond, shoulders squared and chest heaving in anger. Of all people, Harry did not think Draco was going to treat him like the glass doll everyone else did. Draco's fist clenched in unrestrained rage at the other boy's actions. Couldn't Saint Potter see that all he was trying to do was save both their lives?! "You couldn't possibly understand. This is all happening because of ME." Harry's voice was heavy and shook with the force behind it. 

"Do not presume to know what I 'couldn't possibly understand', Potter. The one thing I do seem to fathom which escapes your simple mind is that you cannot win here. Others are giving their lives for you to survive and you throw that all away!" Draco's heart was hammering in his chest and his face was flushed in anger. His father was undoubtedly here. Merlin, even the Snake Beast may be here and Harry was still intent on rushing into his death! The panic tore at the Slytherin boy, his body slowly beginning to quiver. Snarling at the loss of control, Draco forced his hands into tight fists at his sides. 

"I won't lose anyone else," Draco stilled slightly at the low tone of Harry's voice. The boy stood within arm's reach of Draco but the blond did not move forward to close the distance. Raven hair obscured his face and his shoulders hunched closer together. "Viktor... Tonks... Hagrid... Neville... Sirius," Harry's voice cracked, head snapping up. His eyes were painfully dry, jaw determinedly clenched in place without so much as a word more. The names themselves were enough; their meaning was unspoken and understood by both. 

Their eyes met one another's in silence. The street was deathly still but there were shouts from over the hill, further away from Hogsmead. The Aurors were pushing back the Death Eaters. The Dark Mark still hung sickeningly bright in the sky, casting an eerie green light across their skin and reflecting in their eyes. Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter were two completely and utterly different people and yet... 

Harry turned, running down the street towards the shouts of battle. Draco didn't move as he watched Harry's back get farther and farther away. He knew if he was seen here then he would have to aid the Death Eaters in some way. If his father or the Dark Lord saw him helping Harry... then... he would have to feign some excuse. He was going to need to learn Snape's manner of lies soon enough. 

"Bloody Gryffindors," Draco spat before running after Harry, wand desperately grasped in his shaking hand. 

Both boys came to a halt when they reached the border of Hogsmead where the trees grew thicker and the buildings less. There were several bodies of Aurors- both young and old- strewn about the grass. The occasional cloaked figure lay amongst them but it seemed the Aurors were vastly outnumbered. Sparks of spells lit the air as the fighting continued farther along. Draco reached out for Harry's shoulder in an attempt at holding the boy back just as much as a need for human contact. Both pairs of eyes remained on the scene before them. 

They would not win. There seemed to be only four Aurors alive and fighting while the rest loudly told of what happened with their still bodies and bleeding wounds. A swarm of cloaked figures shout dark curses in the night, white masks gleaming a sickly sort of green under the light of their Lord's symbol. Draco pulled his hood over his head, afraid that he would instantly be recognized with his gleaming silver hair. His father was amongst the masked figures, surely. This battle was theirs and they knew it; a sign of the Dark Lord's power and might to strike so close to Hogwarts and survive. 

"_Petrificus Totalus!_" Emerald eyes followed the curse to see long, dark hair flying about the Chinese girl's face as the Death Eater which had come at her fell to the ground. Harry's eyes widened when he saw the young man approaching Cho from behind. Several Death Eaters bowed in his wake, making room for the man to approach the front lines. Red eyes gleamed maliciously as the figure of Tom Riddle raised his wand towards Cho Chang. 

Time both slowed and sped up at a most surreal rate. Harry's forehead exploded in agony at the sudden proximity to Voldemort but still he darted forward, the pale hand falling from his shoulder as he moved to attack the Dark Lord. Draco, whose entire mind had been shrouded by horrid images of those red eyes leering down at him, forced himself out of his frozen state of fear as he moved to follow Harry. 

"_Stupefy!_" Cho turned to see Harry running towards them. His spell surged past her to strike at a young Death Eater with no mask. Yet the man only repelled the spell easily, the most evil of smiles turning his handsome face into one of complete sadism. It made the Ravenclaw's blood cold and somewhere in her mind she realized this person was none other than You-Know-Who. 

There was no time. Harry had to get out of there; help would not be arriving soon enough and she knew there was no way the remaining Aurors, herself, and Harry and Draco Malfoy would be able to defeat You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters. Her mind was calculating the exact amount of time they had to live and it was not long. Stunning another Death Eater, Cho stepped forward and placed herself between Harry and the young man with the blood-red eyes. Her gaze sought out Draco Malfoy's and she motioned to Harry with a nod of her head. There was a flicker of confusion in those stormy eyes before a reserved understanding. 

"_Portus!_" She tossed the ring towards the Slytherin just as she heard the Cruciatus curse hissed behind her. A pale hand reached out for the shimmering golden circle and deftly snatched it like the Seeker he was just as he slammed into Harry, his free arm encircling the boy's waist. 

The last thing Harry saw was Cho falling to the ground, mouth twisting open in pain before the familiar pull at his navel...

* * *

They tumbled onto the grass, Draco on top of Harry as the portkey delivered them to the opposite end of Hogsmead on the path to Hogwarts. No portkey could track the school unless it was made directly by Dumbledore himself and so it seemed Cho had gotten them as close to safety as possible. Draco closed his eyes against the knowledge of what was happening right now to the Ravenclaw. He had always thought the girl to be annoying and idiotic but she proved her own in the end. Fitting for one of her house to think so quickly in such a situation. 

"Get off of me! I have to go back!" It was only then Draco snapped himself from his thoughts to feel the writhing body beneath him; unfortunately not in the manner he was so accustomed to. A hand pushed forcefully at his chest but he only pressed himself closer against the panting boy, effectively pinning him to the ground. "Let me go, Malfoy!" 

"She bloody gave her life for yours or don't you get it, Harry? She doesn't want you to die," he hissed through clenched teeth. Draco had managed to catch both of the boy's hands and pin them to the ground. A guttural cry escaped Harry's throat causing Draco's stomach to turn and his heart to constrict. He couldn't let Harry up; if he left now he wouldn't be coming back. 

"Why?! I never asked for it! I never asked-" Harry bit his lip against the emotional outburst. Cho was going to die. She was going to die like they all had. What made people give up their lives for his? Why couldn't he seem to have the power to save any of them but they all expected him to save the world?! Harry caught sight of his wand a mere arm's length away but Draco was far stronger than he initially appeared. Twisting beneath the blond, his knee aimed for the Slytherin's crotch only to be blocked by the boy's thigh. 

"Nice try, Harry, but I won't let you go." Harry gave another buck upwards in a vain attempt at freeing himself. Both boys were panting now, sweat breaking out on their faces to shimmer in the pale light of the moon. Blond hair brushed at Harry's neck as Draco leaned ever closer, his forehead coming to rest against Harry's own. "I can't lose you," he forcefully whispered. 

There was nothing but the sounds of heavy breathing which eventually slowed. Draco closed his eyes, his forehead still resting against Harry's. His own heart was hammering in his chest as the adrenaline rushed in his veins. The thought of losing Harry had scared him more than that of seeing Voldemort again. His muscles began to quiver as his body came to the realization of all that had happened in the past ten minutes. But he wouldn't let his grip on Harry loosen until he knew for sure... The stillness of the chest beneath his own caused Draco to open his eyes. 

Harry lay still, all effort of breaking free to run back and save the others gone from his person. Dull green eyes stared ahead without focusing on anything. Draco released his grip and eased his weight from Harry, his shadow pulling back from the boy so that the moonlight shimmered down on his face. Draco's breath caught and it felt as though a vice choked at his heart. Trails of tears ran their salty paths down Harry's face and into his hair as more gathered in the shattered eyes to continually stain his cheeks. The Slytherin had never seen The Boy Who Lived cry, nor did it seem anyone else had for that matter. Silently, Draco backed off of Harry completely, calling for the boy's wand and helping him up as they started on the path back to Hogwarts. 

Draco took him in through one of the secret entrances which led directly into the dungeons. Granted he didn't reside there anymore, but it would certainly save them both from explaining anything to the Headmaster right now; he was sure the old man knew of what had happened at Hogsmead already. Harry hadn't said a word the entire way and merely followed Draco silently along. The tears had stopped falling but their stains remained. Brushing a hand through his hair, Draco kept glancing at the Gryffindor as he led them both to the Head Boy's rooms. 

"I assume you know your way from here," he whispered, glancing about the corridor to make sure no one was there. It was some time past midnight and most were already in their common rooms sleeping. Surely there were loyal and worried Gryffindors awaiting Harry's return. Harry nodded once, hooded and weary eyes meeting silvery-blue. Draco roughly ran his hand through blond hair again as he watched Harry turn to leave, shoulders sagging against the explanations which awaited him in the Gryffindor common room. Before he could think further, he reached out and pulled a startled Harry into a rough hug. 

"Draco, wha-" 

"Stay here." His breath ruffled raven hair, lips brushing against Harry's ear. There was a hitched breath from the boy before Harry turned himself so that they were properly embracing one another. Burrowing his face into the raven silk, Draco whispered, "Forget tonight and explain tomorrow." 

Uttering the password for his room, Draco backpedaled while keeping his arms about Harry's waist. The door slowly shut behind the two and left them in the darkness of Draco's common room. Something bubbled to the surface of Draco's emotions and he couldn't explain it but he needed to make sure Harry was here- that he was alive and indeed with him in this room. Running his hands upwards, he gently removed Harry's glasses and placed them on one of the tables. Worn emerald stared back at him but there was the slightest spark of curiousity in their depths. He cupped Harry's face and brushed his lips against the tear tracks which marred his skin. Harry almost seemed to whimper at this but lifted his head so that their lips met. Neither boy knew what they were feeling so strongly in their chests yet it managed to manifest itself clearly in the desperation behind the kiss. Harry opened his mouth wider, inviting Draco's slick heat into his mouth. Their tongues wrapped about one another in a most intoxicating manner without allowing breath to be had. Harry felt the familiar spark deep within him and suddenly needed this more than anything else. Roughly disrobing the blond of his cloak, he nearly tore the fabric in the process. Draco soon proceeded to do the same leaving both robes discarded on the floor without further thought. 

"Wait," Draco breathed, pulling away slightly from Harry. His pale hand slid from Harry's cheek to the boy's hand which was resting on his hip. Taking the Gryffindor's hand, Draco tugged him to the door in the corner of the room. "Not in here." Harry obediently followed Draco through the large doors and into his bedroom. There was the low mutter of a spell from Draco, whom had managed to save his wand from the animalistic removal of robes, causing the room to be dimly lit. 

There were various books scattered about- some on the desk in the far corner and others on the bedside table. Draco's broom was propped in one corner against what seemed to be a rather large closet. The room felt far warmer than the living room and had a certain aspect to it which Harry couldn't quite place his finger on but distinctly noted it as being Draco. His eyes then took note of the lavish bed with its large posts and heavy curtains. The entire upperhalf was completely covered in pillows with an emerald velvet comforter. 

"Enjoy what you see, Harry?" The words brushed against his skin soon followed by a hot mouth along his neck. Harry's eyes fluttered closed with the intimate contact and it was only a matter of minutes before Draco found his sensitive spot. Moaning, Harry pushed himself back into the lithe body behind him. There was a most familiar hardness brushing against his backside and he rubbed against it causing Draco to growl and bite down on his skin. 

"Definately." He was turned and his eyes met a vivid mercury. Pale hands tore at his shirt, freeing him of the restrictive clothing. Hot lips trailed a series of wet kisses along his collarbone. Harry wrapped his hands about Draco's waist and walked backwards with the boy until his knees knocked into the bed. Draco paused in his devouring of Harry's chest to look up at the raven haired boy. Lips sliding into his familiar smirk, Draco pushed Harry onto the bed with one hand. Harry fell into the softness of the mattress while pulling the blond Slytherin with him. 

Harry locked his lips onto Draco's, pulling at his swollen mouth with his teeth as he bucked upwards against the Slytherin until their erections met. Draco hissed at the contact, pulling back from Harry momentarily to divulge himself of his button-down shirt. Leaning forward, Harry ripped at the material when the blond was taking too long and pushed Draco onto his back so that their positions were reversed. Straddling the slender hips, Harry leant forwards to trail his tongue from collarbone to navel. Draco's eyelids fluttered and one hand wrapped itself in the raven silk which occasionally tickled his bare skin. Mercury eyes looked down at the green-eyed youth only to watch as his hot mouth took his nipple between teeth and tongue. 

"Oh gods, Harry..." There was a feral grin before he nodded upwards. Draco pulled himself further up on the bed so that his legs no longer dangled off the edge. His erection strained in his trousers- especially as it rubbed against Harry's bottom in the process of moving. Harry undid the expensive belt and pulled at Draco's tight trousers until they were entirely free from the blond. 

"Honestly, Draco, silk?" One eyebrow raised, Harry eyed the Slytherin with amusement. Draco's breathing was heavy and he merely smirked. 

"What can I say? I have high tastes..." Harry only smirked which caused Draco's heart to skip a beat. The Gryffindor massaged him through the silk cloth causing the boy to emit a deep groan as his hips arched upwards and into the touch. Harry pulled the silk boxers excruciatingly slow down the bare legs before wrapping one hand around his shaft. Rubbing his thumb against the head, Harry licked at the pre-cum which spilled forth. The room burst into a series of colors and lights as Harry covered Draco's heat with his mouth. Pale hands fisted in the comforter as his back arched and hips pushed himself ever further into Harry. His entire body felt as though it was on fire and something twisted low in his abdomen just as Harry's tongue swirled over his heated erection. A scream passed his lips as hips bucked upwards in one final thrust. Eyes closed, Harry swallowed the warm essence of the boy beneath him. 

Before he knew what was happening, Harry was pulled forward and flipped. His eyes hooded, he watched as Draco deftly removed the worn denim that kept them both from one another entirely. Harry's mind was in a fog, not rationally thinking about anything in the heat of the moment. But a rush of memory came surging back once smooth hands traced down the long, jagged scar on his abdomen. Shaking beneath the touch, Harry snaked his hands upwards to encircle the Slytherin's neck. Pulling Draco down on top of him, he roughly took hold of the other boy's mouth. There was a moan, neither sure whether it was from the other or themselves. 

Draco thrust forward, causing their erections to grind against one another in a most intoxicating manner. Harry hissed into the blond's mouth, hands clawing at the porcelain skin on his back. Their tongues wrestled with one another as Draco moved again, faster this time. Harry pulled back as thin threads of saliva connected the boys to each other. Wrapping his legs about Draco's waist, he almost whined. 

"Draco... now..." Hungry silver eyes made contact with a deep emerald. A surge of emotions was pulsating in Draco but nothing more than possession ensnared his mind at that very moment. He wanted to mark Harry as his own permanently. No one was going to take Harry from him. No one. Something in his clouded mind told him to look for his wand but Harry would have none of it. "No.. I don't care.. Draco.. please..." That was it. The keening tone of Harry's voice sent Draco over the edge. 

One hand traced down the contours of the slim seeker body beneath him to slide two fingers slowly into Harry. There was a loud hiss before the raven haired boy pushed himself all the way down on Draco's digits. Draco stroked the pliable flesh of Harry's core before pulling his slick fingers from the boy. Panting, Harry looked up at the blond with an irresistable need in those glittering eyes. Positioning himself at Harry's entrance, Draco pushed in without warning. His instincts took over as did Harry's. There was a scream but it was one of pleasure as the Gryffindor threw his head back into the pillows. Not knowing how to deal with the raw feeling Draco was experiencing, he bit down on Harry's collarbone as he thrust further into the boy. Sliding in and out, he sank himself further and further in until he seemed to hit the best part. Harry's entire body singed and he tangled one hand in Draco's hair, his legs tightening their grip about the blond's waist. Pounding into the boy beneath him, Draco pumped Harry in time with his own thrusts. His head hung low, lips brushing against the sweaty flush of Harry's cheek. 

"Harry..." The name was like a prayer on his lips as his thrusts became faster and more desperate. The boy shook beneath him, both hands clawing at Draco's back. It was a sensory overload. The feeling of Harry against him, the sensation of being completely and utterly surrounded by the raven haired boy, the hands at his back, the firm, beating pulse of the Gryffindor coming in his hand. Draco let out a scream as he came, quivering over Harry as he thrust one last time from the aftershock of his orgasm. Collapsing onto the boy, he remained buried in him as both chests rose and fell rapidly. It was only when Draco finally lifted his head that he noticed the tears staining the pillow.

* * *

__

_The scene was grotesque, smeared flesh strewn about iron gates as it waved in the wind of the storm. A disgustingly slick mind probed at his thoughts, hissing that all of this was of his own doing. One in the same, body and mind, this was all caused by his lack of response. Thunder erupted in his ears as lightning pierced the sky like a sick sort of cosmic joke against the backdrop. Mangled black hair blew in the breeze over what was left of the girl's face._

__

Harry lurched in the bed, falling out from under the warm blanket just in time as what little food he had tore from his throat. Retching, his body shook with the force of the dream. Palms against the cold floor, his stomach lurched once more in a vain attempt of ridding food which it did not have. Stomach acid burned his esophagus and his eyes clenched tightly shut against the foul taste it left in his mouth. As foul as the vision he had... 

"Harry..." There was a warm, wet cloth wiping at his face as the stinking mess was dismissed of with the wave of a slender black wand. Squinting up at the figure next to him, Harry stared for several seconds before processing who it was kneeling near him nude as the day he was born. Pushing the gentle hand away, he stood and shrugged the blond off. Yet his intentions and body were not on the same plane and so just like the room that spun about him, Harry staggered and lost balance. 

"Bloody hell, Potter, will you stay still for a minute?" Harry's face burrowed into the chest which was pressed tightly against him. His hands moved to encircle the waist but all too soon the vision of that marred face loomed in his mind. And not only was it Cho. No, there were so many more. So many... Pushing away from Draco, Harry stumbled across the room. He needed to leave. He needed to get as far away from here as possible. If he was gone from here, then no one else could be hurt. The ache in his bottom reminded him of things which had transgressed mere hours ago and this only heightened his paranoia. How had he let himself slip that far? Why had he allowed such a thing to take place? He couldn't get close... not again.. not to anyone else... 

Harry's fingers fumbled with the zipper on his pants. His palms were sweating and his face drained of all color. The loose threads which were keeping his sanity together shook precariously in the vicious winds from the recent dream. Turning about the room in search of his shirt, his eyes finally laid rest on the garment of clothing nowhere else but in the hands of the Slytherin who was sitting on the edge of his bed, legs crossed and eyebrow raised. "Looking for something, Harry? Really, if you had been in such a rush I could have woken you earlier." 

"I'm sorry, I have-" 

"Don't fucking apologize to me, Potter!" Draco stood, red marring his porcelain features as the anger seeped through from within. The blond knew Harry had some serious issues; he wasn't daft. But it bothered him that instead of even thinking of sharing these things with him, the sodding git just wanted to run off back to his quaint little room and hide away from the rest of the world once more. "I don't care about your sodding excuses that you use on your fellow Gryffindorks. They won't work with me. Not here, not now." His jaw was clenched tight and he tilted his head a degree higher. A part of Draco wanted nothing more than to hold the shaking boy before him but an even larger part was absolutely enraged at the traitorous thought. He was being rejected yet again, and old wounds break open too easily. 

Silence hung heavy in the room. Harry stood as though frozen in place, worn and ragged with tired eyes which tried in vain to focus on the blurs of shapes before him. The dream was all too fresh in his mind and although the paranoia was receding from his body, the loss of it almost threatened to cause him to lose all semblance of control whatsoever. Taking the few steps that led him to stand in front of Draco, Harry looked down at the blond. 

He had no idea what he felt for Draco Malfoy. What happened last night was nothing more than a need to ensure he was alive- almost a means to inflict pain upon himself in any way possible. Yet it had not been painful and a part of him remembered the warm embrace which held him once the blond thought him to be asleep. Harry knew it was the stereotypical way of a hero to reject his friends in order to save them. It's easy to say such actions are foolish and won't change anything in the end. But this is from the viewpoint of someone who does not know the weight of someone's death on their shoulders. Harry couldn't take it. So many were gone from the world because of him, because he had failed in the one thing he was meant to do. Mercury eyes looked up at his, emotion lurking deep within their depths. If he broke now, then Harry would never be able to piece himself back together. He couldn't show anyone what he truly felt inside because he didn't dare feel it himself. 

His fingers brushed against the pale skin, twirling strands of platinum blond about their tips. Leaning down ever so slowly, his lips brushed lightly against the slightly parted mouth. Eyelids fluttered closed as the blond responded just as gently. Neither boy knew any inkling of what they were getting themselves into nor did either truly wish to find out. The kiss deepened as Draco slid his free hand into the hair at the back of Harry's neck. Both of Harry's hands cupped the angled pale face as he slowly pulled away, eyes opening to look directly into their silver counterparts. Letting one hand drop to the shirt which Draco held loosely, Harry took it with no struggle. Tracing the contour of the slender face, his lips brushed against the swollen pair below him. 

"Good-bye, Draco." He pulled away, hand slowly falling from the still Adonis sitting on the messy bed. Casting his gaze downwards, Harry turned from the Slytherin and pulled his shirt over his head. Draco didn't even stir when the door closed, the harsh sound echoing throughout his room.


	9. Gasped Confession

**Title:** One That Stood Alone 

**Author:** tsubasagahoushi

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco, Hermione/Ron, Luminos(OC)/???

**Disclaimer:** I am a poor, poor college student who does not own anything... much less the rights to these characters. Those are all the great genius of J.K. Rowling and the respective publishers...

**A/N:** Again, instead of trying to get this out bi-weekly I'm slipping into a monthly sort of pattern. Better than bi-monthly, eh? I hope there's more activity and revelations in this chapter as opposed to the last. There's a lot of emotions to deal with so I've had to break this little arc up more than I initially wanted, but I think it's better this way. Thanks Mooncub, Wynterflame, Kat, Slytherinkid07 for the reviews! Yay me.

* * *

"_Relashio Maxima!_" Harry hissed loudly as massive sparks burned through his cloak and singed his skin. Staggering backwards, he shook the burned arm without even pausing to take in the damage.

"_Furnunculus!_"

"_Protego!_" The spell hit the shield causing a flash of orange light to brighten the room. The Potions Professor sneered, expecting more from the boy before him. Apparently he hadn't challenged Potter enough in the past week. "_Crucio!_"

Harry darted to the side just as the Unforgivable flew past him. He let out a withheld breath; he was glad he missed it this time. "_Stupefy!_" Again, Harry's spell merely reflected off in a flash of light as Snape's shield blocked its intended effect. The light dimmed, a thin veil of ivory mist fading from the Potion Master's form. Harry took this opportunity to strike. "_Crucio!_"

Severus Snape was not expecting the attack. Coal black eyes widened slightly as he fell down to one knee, the curse working its way through his body. Head hanging, his body shook with the strength of the Cruciatus. Potter was getting better... but was nothing in comparison to Voldemort's strength. Harry's wand lowered as he watched his professor trembling on the ground.

"_Finite Incantatem._"

"_Accerso Dementor!_" Thick ashen mist spewed forth from Snape's wand, billowing into the large dungeon room to loom over the Gryffindor. Harry's heart pounded in his chest as the screaming filled his ears and mind.

"_Expecto Patronum!_" The dementor thrust out its chest, arms stretching toward Harry. His breathing became quicker as the screams grew louder. "_Expecto Patronum!_" A skeletal hand cracked as it curled into a loose fist. "_EXPECTO PATRONUM!_" His own shout was lost amongst the screaming fear ringing madly in his ears, pounding in his chest. The dementor arched its back and swooped down on him just as the world faded to black.

_It was a field of wreckage. Where Hogwarts once stood was mere shambles of walls as a tattered school banner blew in the humid breeze. The Forbidden Forest had been ravaged, massive trees collapsed atop one another whilst others were utterly shattered into splinters of wood which littered the dark ground. There was a stench in the air, carried on the breeze to choke at the lungs and sting the eyes. The ground felt uneven beneath his feet as though he were standing on..._

_Bodies. They became the ground, covering every inch of the massive grave. Thrown over one another, piled into heaps of dead, their faces twisted into expressions of pure horror and agony. Harry's mouth fell open in a silent scream, his body not knowing how to respond as it shifted into a state of terrified shock. There was a whisper, barely a sound off in the distance. It grew in strength. First from afar, then behind, then below... Eyes sprang open in a lifeless stare as the sound was recognized. The bodies had awoken._

_"You killed us. You killed us. You killed us." The chant grew in strength, pulsating throughout Harry's body. Shaking his head, a muttered denial on his lips, he stumbled backward. His foot slipped amongst the bodies and he fell, rolling down the small hill which was formed by the piles of dead. They tore at his cloak, hair, and skin as he slid past them. "You killed us. You killed us. You killed-"_

_"NO!" Harry's hands connected with grass instead of cold, lifeless flesh. The voices were gone along with the bodies, save for the one beneath him._

_"You said you would protect me, Harry." Wide emerald eyes sprang open, his throat working at words._

_"Draco..." The blond beneath him began to sink into the ground as though being consumed by the very thing. Long, tapered fingers reached out from the darkness under the Slytherin to slide about his neck, pulling him ever closer to the sudden abyss. Red eyes pierced into Harry's from below, where the earth had been, as Draco was pulled closer and closer to the Dark Lord._

"_Ennervate!_" Harry's eyes snapped open just as the spell struck his body, mere seconds before he was about to wake himself from the terrifying plunge into the psychotic. Severus Snape stood over Harry, looking down at the Gryffindor with an expression of scorn. Yet if one knew Severus, it could be told that the man was disappointed as well as distressed. Harry grimaced, one hand making its way to his head as though to hold the horrid images within the cage of his mind, forever to be locked away.

"Your infamous patronus did not appear, Potter." Biting back the sarcastic reply, Harry merely opted for glaring at the black haired man over the rim of his glasses. Professor and pupil scowled at one another in heavy silence. Furrowing his brows, Harry was the first to avert his gaze as he roughly ran a hand through his hair.

"How did it even--"

"It is not important how the Dementor appeared, Potter. I stress that you focus on the painful fact that you were utterly unable to defend yourself from it, much less disperse the creature from the dungeon. The dementors work for Voldemort," the Dark Lord's name fell from the Potions Professor's lips like putrid oil, "If you cannot be rid of one dementor, you have absolutely no hopes of getting near the man, much less defeating him." The scorn was evident in his voice and Harry literally bit his lip against any angry retort. The slimy git was bloody right. The dementors had fallen under Voldemort's command last year, since he allowed them many more Kisses than the Ministry. The creatures craved the souls of wizards and muggles alike, Voldemort not caring from which the dementors fed.

"One more time." Harry stood, the room swaying about him while his stomach twisted and plummeted most uncomfortably; he was going to be sick. The dementor seemed to have been stronger than ever, the pain of his mother's death the most vivid he had ever felt. Clenching his jaw against the wave of dizzy nausea, he raised his wand once more. Snape merely cocked an eyebrow before pursing his lips and lazily drawing his wand.

"_Accerso Dementor._" The billowing figure reappeared, spreading its arms wide as it sprung forth from the wand. Harry winced as the screaming tore through his ears. There was a faint smell of flowers before the repugnant odor of burned flesh accosted his senses, leaving a wretched taste on his tongue which did nothing to help his nausea. This was the smell of his mother and her death. This was Lily Evans-Potter's final moments.

"_Expecto Patronum!_" Thoughts of his mother. The smiling face in the moving wizard pictures. The kindness which he had never known. Something pulsed in his palm which tightly grasped his wand but it was far from enough. The dementor flew upwards to the highest point in the dungeon before swooping down in a direct attack on its prey.

"_Expecto Patronum!_" James Potter. His father whom he looked so much like. A seeker. A Marauder. Like Sirius. This time not even the dull throb of power pulsed in his hand. His heart tightened as his vision swayed under the strain of the torturous cries of his mother's death. The mother he never knew. "_EXPECTO PATRONUM!_" His voice was desperate, wand aimed directly at the looming dementor which charged toward him. "_EXPECTO PATRONUM!_" His voice screamed the spell in anger, in agony, in a vain attempt at drowning out the screams which assaulted his ears.

Nothing but the faintest of silvery mists shimmered at the tip of his wand.

The dementor reached out its long arms, placing rotting hands on both sides of Harry's smooth face. The touch nearly drove him mad. Images rushed through his mind. A flash of crimson hair. Shouts of spells. Screams. Terror. So much fear it was palpable in the air; he breathed it in and felt as though it would drown him. Harry Potter looked into the face of the dementor as it prepared to give its Kiss and was the first wizard ever to welcome it.

"_Expecto Patronum!_" His breath hitched as the dementor fled the suddenly brilliant light. His vision blurred as his lungs rapidly tried to pull in the oxygen which they had been deprived of while under the clutch of the creature. Harry fell backwards, hard, head knocking against the stone of the floor. The dungeon ceiling whirled overhead as the dark blur of the spell's caster loomed over him, a voice whirring in his ears before the darkness stole over him.

* * *

"Really, Blaise Zabini doesn't seem that horrid, Ron."

"He's a Slytherin, Hermione. I don't care if Seamus is friends with the bloke; he's bad news."

"You just don't like him because he asked Ginny to Samhain tomorrow night." There were sputtering sounds as Ronald Weasley desperately searched for some other reason to despise the git who had marched over to the Gryffindor table that evening, leaning over Ginny and openly asking her to the dance.

"He had no right! And he's bad news for Ginny! He's- He's a Slytherin! Hermione, stop laughing; I'm serious!"

Harry lay still as the conversation filtered into his foggy mind. Slytherin... platinum blond hair and mercury eyes which melted under his gaze. Smooth porcelain skin splayed against his own scarred and imperfect chest. A moan escaped his lips despite himself, causing all prior laughter and conversation to die.

"Harry! You've finally woken up. Are you alright?" Blinking his eyes open, he instantly wished he hadn't. Wincing, he screwed them tightly shut against the bright light which bounced off all the white in the infirmary. Disorientated, he backtracked through his memory as to how he had come to be here in the first place. Not that it was an uncommon environment for The Boy Who Lived, but he rather liked to know what landed him in the crisp linen sheets.

"You don't look too good, mate. Maybe you should rest a bit more." Slowly opening his eyes and allowing them to adjust to the sudden brightness, Harry squinted at the redhead. Blearily reaching for his glasses, he placed them on his nose and narrowed his eyes as the world focused into perspective.

"I didn't like your sudden studies with Professor Snape in the first place, Harry, but things have gone too far. You've been unconscious for hours- you missed dinner again tonight." Pushing back his hair with one hand, a tired sigh escaped Harry's lips. Hermione had adamantly opposed his training with the Potions Master. Instead of once a week, Harry had trained every day with the head of Slytherin house, each night returning to his dormitory even more bruised and withdrawn. The day after Cho's honorable obituary in the Daily Prophet, along with the other six aurors who also died that night, he had asked Snape- in so many words- if he would train him. The professor had merely regarded him coldly before asking what was wrong with the Defense Against the Dark Arts 'special' training Harry received. The fact was, Harry couldn't bear to be around Luminos anymore than need be. He didn't care if there was an explanation for the Dark Mark; Harry couldn't trust the man. Rationally thinking, Harry knew there had to be a reason behind his affiliation with Voldemort, but his psyche couldn't take another blow. It was too similar to third year and Sirius' escape from Azkaban. Despite the ache in his chest that wished to continue his relationship with the DADA professor, Harry had turned to Severus Snape. At least it was clear where his loyalties lie.

"I'm fine, Hermione. I want to get a better view on things. Snape has worked directly with Voldemort." Although apparently so does Luminos, thought Harry. "He's the best person to learn from." His two friends became quiet at the mention of the Dark Lord. It didn't matter that no one else was in the infirmary, or even the fact that Voldemort was very obviously alive, even Ron and Hermione had trouble hearing the name uttered so casually.

The silence filled the room. Ron and Hermione shifted their gazes to anywhere but Harry. All three knew the underlying meaning behind his purpose- Harry was going to be rid of the Dark Lord this year or die trying. Well, at least Harry knew that last bit. He never had told them of the prophecy, so they didn't understand that he was the only one who could destroy Voldemort. Even so, there really was nothing to say; his friends knew any words of sympathy or aid were unheard or disregarded. Despite their Gryffindor bravery, when it was a very conscious decision and not an instant life-or-death situation, it was much harder to claim your infallible aid in destroying one of the most powerful wizards of all time.

Harry shifted, pushing back the bed covers as he slowly slipped his legs over the edge of the infirmary bed despite every cry of protest from his weakened muscles. His movement drew the attention of his fellow Gryffindors, and soon Hermione stood and came around the bedside where Harry was attempting to stand.

"What do you think you're doing, Harry? You can't go anywhere tonight- not in your condition." Harry paused in his task of getting off the bed, arms propped behind him and head tilted up at the Head Girl.

"Hermione, I am perfectly fine. I've been through far worse than run-ins with deme--" He abruptly stopped himself from finishing his thought. They still didn't know about his inability to produce his patronus and he didn't intend for them to find out anytime soon. Hermione's eyes squinted in thought, but the immediate urgency of getting Harry back in bed took top priority.

"Honestly, Harry, you can't possibly be able to stand right now. Madame Pomfrey says you're malnourished and deplenished of all your energy. She left a potion for you to take and you're to stay in the infirmary tonight under strict orders. You have to regain your strength; when Professor Snape brought you here, you looked just as ragged as Sirius when he escaped from Azka--"

"I think he understands, 'Mione." Ron's low yet calm voice cut off the ranting young woman just as she realized what she had said. Her hand flew to her mouth and she looked at Harry with sorrow in her eyes. It nearly killed him.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry! I just--" Suddenly, Harry realized that he had never once talked about Sirius with either of his friends since the... incident... at the Ministry. In fact, he hadn't heard the name mentioned from them in over a year, so it had seemed almost foreign on her lips. Had he really allowed for the memory of Sirius to be made into something so unnatural?

Ron stood from his chair and moved to the side of the bed, pulling Hermione to him with one arm. She gladly leaned into the loose embrace, terribly shaken by what she had just said. Hermione was coming apart at the edges what with their NEWTs and constantly worrying about Harry. She had slipped, and the slack comment brought the usually stern girl to the brink of tears. Harry's mind felt as though it was just hexed with an extremely strong Impedimenta. Ron nodded to Harry, instructing him on the potion left for his consumption on the bedside table. Bidding him goodbye, the redhead led Hermione out of the infirmary with the promise to check in on Harry first thing tomorrow morning.

Long after the doors closed, Harry remained in his exact same position between completely lying on the bed and moving to stand. Had he really been so caught up in his own pain that he hadn't seen his best friends' anguish? Yes. He had. And the worst bit still, was he couldn't think about it even now. Even though he knew the thought of Sirius' death plagued the minds of his friends as well, Harry still could not bare to dwell on it. A sudden sense of self-loathing swirled in his gut. Did he really believe he was that pompous- so above everyone else's emotions that they couldn't possibly feel what he was feeling?

But that was the thing. Harry wasn't feeling anything at all. Sixth year had worn him down. Through all the smiles, all the false hope and sympathy, Harry's true emotions were completely and utterly destroyed. The only time he had ever felt anything was when he cut or... The caress of soft skin against his own. The tickle of silvery strands as they played about his throat, sensual lips tracing his neck with their passionate touches. His body strained at the memory and it did nothing for his aching muscles. Biting his lower lip, Harry allowed himself to collapse back onto the sterility of the infirmary bed.

It does not do to dwell on memories of which he could never partake again. His face twisted into a semblance of emotional agony. His chest ached and it was not only because the muscles there had been caught by a particularly strong spell hours ago. Harry hadn't felt anything like this since he watched his godfather fall through the veil. For some reason unknown to him, he cared about Draco Malfoy.

"Can't sodding believe Sev. Bloody make up his own mind, won't he? Now he wants me to go to Potter. 'Tell Potter today's Potions assignment- it's not as though the boy can hope to pass otherwise.' Fucking prat." Harry's throat clenched as the harsh whispers grew louder. Draco Malfoy slipped through the infirmary doors and glanced about the large empty room.

In all honesty, Draco had been wishing to speak with Harry all week. He desperately wanted to grab the boy, slam him up against the nearest wall, and demand an explanation. Draco Malfoy was not abandoned. Draco Malfoy was not walked out on. Draco Malfoy did not give a damn in the first place. Hissing through his teeth, Draco ran a hand through his platinum blond locks. Quietly gliding over to the only occupied bed, he suppressed the shudder that ran up his spine. The infirmary didn't exactly hold the most pleasant of memories for him this year.

"Malfoy?" Draco jerked his head towards the voice, not expecting Harry to be awake. His body had been so deathly still that he instantly thought the boy remained unconscious. Draco had heard several things about Harry's condition- most pulled directly from Severus himself. Straightening his posture even more than its usual regal demeanor, Draco regarded Harry with the utmost scorn.

"Obviously."

"What are you doing here?" Harry's voice wavered, giving Draco all the more reassurance in himself. He couldn't help but remember the beginning of term when their roles were very much reversed. He liked it far better this way.

"Wandering the infirmary for my own jollies. What do you think, Potter?" The spat surname caused Harry to flinch, the reaction noticed by Draco. He lifted the schoolbooks. "Professor Snape believes you need to be told what we covered in class today. We are partners, afterall." Harry's eyelashes fluttered low, his gaze falling to the rumpled sheets. His entire body seemed to drain of all energy, as though Malfoy's mere presence tired him.

"Not now, Dra-Malfoy." Clenching his jaw tight, Draco watched as Harry pulled himself completely back onto the bed and positioned himself properly vertical before falling against the pillows. His grip on the books tightened, knuckles turning white in the strain. He would not beg for any sort of explanation. He would not care that Harry looked like death, far too pale and thin for his own good. Pulling one of the nearby chairs- no doubt recently occupied by the Weasel or Mudblood- close to the bed, Draco sat and set out the book and parchment atop the bed next to Harry.

"I am not about to fail my NEWT on your behalf, Potter. The topic was an analyzation and in-depth study of ritualistic blood potions." Harry's eyes snapped open at this. Draco only sneered. "Ironic, isn't it? Seems Sev does have a sense of humor under those layers of disdain." The smallest of smirks upturned Harry's lips causing Draco's breath to catch. Cursing to himself, Draco ran a hand through his hair once more. Harry furrowed his brow at this action but the blond Slytherin continued without any regards to the raven haired boy. "Blood is extremely important in potions and only used for those that are highly potent and dangerous- typically the Dark Arts."

"Are you nervous?" Draco sputtered at this, then realized he had done so, covering it up with a sneer.

"Why would I be nervous, Potter?" Harry merely shrugged his shoulders. He was sure of it, though. Draco only ran his hand through his hair when he was upset or nervous about something. But he hadn't the energy to tease the Slytherin anymore on the subject.

"As I was saying, a wizard's power resides in their blood. This is why lineage is so important in the wizarding world. Power is passed on from generation to generation through the blood, thus each family has its own distinctive abilities." Harry raised a brow at this, intrigued by the concept. So he was linked to his parents in an even deeper way than he initially thought. Somehow, it was comforting to know that the same power his father and mother had pulsed through his very veins.

"This is why there is such social uprest over the integration of mudbloods," Harry glared at Draco and the blond only rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders. "Whether it seems prejudiced or not, they dilute the power in wizarding lines. The more muggle-borns," Draco dramatically emphasized the politically correct term, "That are added into the lineage, the weaker the magic becomes."

"My mother was muggle-born." Draco raised his brow at the stern remark. "My magic doesn't seem to be that weak." Draco smirked at Harry's admission of strength. Usually the boy was denying any power he possessed, and to hear him adamantly state his magickal strength intrigued Draco.

"James Potter was a pureblood, though. He makes up for much of your power source."

"How did you know my father was a pureblood?" Draco leaned back, arms crossed over his chest as his eyes closed in memory.

"Mother would often prattle on about Sirius Black, thus in terms with his best mate James Potter. I learned much about both men- more so her cousin. From what I heard, he seemed to be a rather interesting bloke. If mother loathed him so, I have to imagine he must be. Or been, rather." When Draco opened his eyes, he noticed Harry staring off at nothing, away from him and across the room. The blond mentally chastised himself. He bloody forgot the same dead man was Harry's sodding godfather! What idiot would forget that? The way Potter had responded in anger whenever the likes of Sirius Black was mentioned should have been the red flag for him to shut his bloody mouth.

"We're getting off-topic. Now concerning the importance of the blood--"

"He was." Draco regarded Harry quizzically. The Gryffindor focused his gaze on Draco, tired emerald eyes looking as though they had seen all the sorrow in the world. "Sirius Black was a very interesting bloke." Silence hung in the air before the Slytherin spoke, his voice retaining its initial scorn but softened as though divulging something that shouldn't be said.

"I would've rather fancied meeting him then. I've heard wicked tales of the 'pompous, disdainful git' from Sev. I can only imagine what the man did to my godfather." Emerald lightened, the flicker of playfulness sparkling in their depths.

"For starters, Sirius- and my dad- called him 'Snivellus.'" Draco laughed despite himself, biting back the hysterics which threatened to spill forth. His own eyes shone with a particular sparkle of mischief like that before he was about to get someone into serious trouble for his own amusement.

"That's absolutely fantastic. I'll have to remember that one."

Both boys smiled at one another, allowing themselves this moment to merely laugh at the thought of the stern Potions Master being called 'Snivellus'. Harry went on to mention several other small aspects of Sirius-- the fact that he was Harry's godfather, how he had been the one to give him his Firebolt in third year, the manner in which Sirius behaved on a day-to-day basis. It was good to merely speak of Sirius lightly without having to explain any of the darker aspects of his past. Draco commented and cursed the man for allowing Harry to own the better broom. Really, it hadn't been fair at all. The room grew silent after the fourth tale of mischief and jokes, a calm sort of air in the room laced with dread. Just as Harry was about to open his mouth to speak what he hadn't said in years, Draco cut him off.

"We really should get back to the assignment. I wasn't joking when I said I don't want to fail my NEWT because of you, Potter." Harry's small smile faltered and he nodded. Draco was still sore about their present relationship, not wishing to acknowledge the part of him that had enjoyed the light-hearted conversation. Even when they had been snogging, there hadn't been any real conversation and he didn't want any now. At least he was forcing himself into believing that. Pulling the book off of the bed, he fingered through the pages until reaching the desired passage.

"It is not uncommon for a wizard to take another's blood in order to consume their power. This is how vampires came to be- they were actually once wizards but drank too much blood causing an addiction to the power. Once the blood is consumed, then the two are forever connected which is why the other wizard is usually killed. If the other is not killed, a bond occurs of the strongest nature, mostly for abuse of power. Honestly, Potter, is it that difficult to pay attention?" The small smile that had lingered on his lips was gone, his entire body felt as though it were ice. There was a connection between blood. If a wizard consumed your blood they had your power and vice versa. The scar on his chest burned and he snapped his attention back to Draco.

"How long are they connected?" His voice cracked at this, throat horribly dry. All playful thoughts of Sirius had been smothered by the memory of crimson pouring down his throat, nearly choking him. Draco looked directly into faded emerald eyes as he spoke, a flicker of concern making its way into his gut.

"It depends how much blood was consumed. A few drops should suffice for minor changes but nothing severe." Had Potter pieced it together yet? It was the first thing Draco had thought of when Snape assigned them to this particular subject. Draco's pulse quickened at the memory of Harry's life in his mouth, the taste of his power coppery on his tongue. He dismissed the memory from his mind. They hadn't shared that much blood to completely be bound to one another, anyways.

"And if it was more...?" Harry voice was a coarse whisper, his vision blurring as his heart rate sped then slowed as the anticipation grew. There was a gaping hole in his stomach which only seemed to grow larger with dread.

"If it's a pint or more, then power is permanently taken. If the blood is exchanged a sort of bond occurs, nothing like a veela bond, but one of mental and physical aspects. If enough blood is exchanged and taken in, two people can essentially become one, I suppose." Draco shrugged, wondering why Potter suddenly showed so much interest in potions. When Draco looked at Harry again the boy's face had drained of all color, his eyes wide as he stared blankly ahead.

"Must it be consumed?" Harry's voice was but a whisper, barely a movement of the lips. Draco began to worry despite himself, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"Why do you-"

"Does it have to be consumed, Draco?" The sudden use of his name when they were so sure to use surnames- even during the chat about Sirius- took the Slytherin by surprise and he answered automatically.

"Not necessarily. If one wished to truly combine the physicality then I suppose they could be exchanged in the body alone without complete consumption. A cut I suppose... which is why it's important when you're a child not to enter into blood oaths on a whim. Even the pricking of a finger and mixing of blood can mean a contract and exchange." It was only then Draco noticed that Harry was shaking. Against all thought, he stood from his chair and leaned over the bed, placing the book on the small table.

"Harry?" His lip trembled, startled emerald eyes meeting Draco's mercury as realization dawned on the Gryffindor.

"Gods..." Harry threw his torso over the side of the bed opposite the blond and proceeded to vomit. There was nothing in his stomach so the acid burned his esophagus as he wretched. There was a hand on his back, pressure on the bed as weight was redistributed. Tears sprung to Harry's eyes as his body heaved again in a vain attempt to be rid of what had been placed inside too long ago.

Several minutes passed in this fashion before he pulled himself back onto the bed. Falling against the pillows, he felt as though he could fade away. That wouldn't be so bad. Then he wouldn't have to worry about his intimate connection with the Dark Lord. The way the blood had oozed down his throat and smeared across his chest...

There was a hand on his face, thumb stroking smooth circles of calm against his cheeks. Harry opened his eyes slowly only to meet shimmering silver-blue. Draco was so close, now sat on the bed and leaning over Harry to smooth back his hair and brush at the torment that manifested itself in his eyes. No one knew. No one but Dumbledore and that was the way it was supposed to be. But it was eating away at him and now...

"Is it that terrible, Harry?" Draco's voice was smooth but soft. A single tear gathered and gently fell down Harry's cheek. The Slytherin didn't know what Potter truly referred to, instead believing his reaction to deal with their small connection. He thought of how their exchange had come to be... in the infirmary when Draco was sure he was going to die... Draco's mind slowed and backpedaled. He was going to die because of the eternal bloodflow curse which dealt with Voldemort's blood. His mouth fell open slightly as the reality came crashing down around him.

Harry took the hand which had fallen from his face and moved it under his thin shirt onto his bare chest. He guided the slim hand over the upraised flesh which stretched in a jagged, angry line from collarbone to navel. Harry shivered at the touch, unsure whether it had to do with the memories which flooded his senses or the fact that Draco was touching him albeit with instruction.

"Last year when I faced Voldemort he did this to me." Harry's voice was dead, his gaze off in the distance as the memories played through his mind. "I didn't understand why. I had run to Grimmauld Place to help Remus. I was sent a message and I knew it was from Voldemort but I didn't care. Remus was going to die; he didn't expect it and that bitch," His lips twisted in a sneer as the words were growled from Harry's throat, "Bellatrix was performing the Cruciatus on Remus when I arrived." The room grew eerily quiet before Harry focused his gaze on Draco.

"I killed her." Draco's throat caught at the pure malice in the Gryffindor's eyes. He knew about his aunt's death but hadn't known it was Harry that had been the one. There hadn't been a formal funerary procession for Aunt Lestrange because there wasn't enough left of the woman to do so. In all honesty, Draco didn't particularly care about her, but the fact that Harry was the one to send her into oblivion caused a shudder to travel down his spine. The anger in the emerald eyes hazed over with painful nostalgia.

Averting his gaze, Harry continued in a monotone, "He forced blood down my throat and tore into my skin. I think he took mine as well, his lips were stained with blood when his head lifted from my chest. There was more but-" Harry's words were cut off as pink lips pressed fiercely against his own. Harry's eyes widened at the abrupt action. He knew he shouldn't give into the touch. He had pushed Draco away because he was getting too close. Harry knew he needed to keep Draco at a distance if he hoped to save him but somehow the logic was fading from his mind. It had felt so good to talk to the blond about Sirius, not needing to worry about a sympathetic look in those silver eyes. It felt even better to feel the softness against his own mouth, pushing and probing him to stir his emotions into life.

Draco crawled onto the bed until he was straddling Harry's hips. His hand still with Harry's beneath the shirt, he parted their lips with his tongue, delving into the warm passage with purpose. At Harry's words his entire body had flamed with rage. Voldemort had touched Harry. The beast had dared to taste Harry. Voldemort had marred something that was HIS. It didn't matter that at the time Draco and Harry were nothing more than school enemies. It didn't matter that he was to become a Death Eather tomorrow. That was far from his thoughts now, and the only thing on his mind was to mark Harry in every manner possible as his own.

Harry moaned beneath him, aching to be touched. The memories of Voldemort had not been pleasant and he wanted nothing more than Draco to wash them away from his skin. Draco slid his hand down Harry's side and lower still. Harry bucked his hips up against the Slytherin, wishing for more contact between the thin sheet which separated their lower halves. Draco's lips moved down Harry's face to his neck, inevitably finding his sweet spot tucked along the bridge between neck and shoulder. Harry wrapped his hands about Draco's neck to pull the boy closer. The Gryffindor gasped when the soft hand dove beneath the waistband of his pants to grasp his erection. Draco lifted himself off of Harry for leverage, working his hand rhythmically against the boy beneath him.

"Draco..." It was a gasp, the raven haired boy twisting his hands in the silver strands, one sliding down to cup Draco's bum. Their lips met once more as Draco quickened the speed of his hand on Harry. Capturing the swollen lips, they battled with one another in a rush of passion. Harry's hand moved again, tearing at the fly of Draco's pants and grasping the blond in turn. This caused Draco's breath to hitch, his body thrusting into Harry's hand, mimicking his own movement on the boy beneath him.

"You are MINE," Draco growled into Harry's mouth. A pink tongue darted out to trail against the lips which spoke such a proclamation before Harry drew them down against his own again. He bit Draco's lip as he felt the tension in his abdomen grow, his muscles tightening, about to release.

"And you're mine. I don't care. I need you, Draco. I'll protect you. I'll pro-" Harry came, his promises cut off with a muted cry. Draco let himself fall on top of Harry, his breath coming in short gasps as he rode the last waves of his orgasm as well. They remained as such for what seemed forever- Draco lying atop Harry, his arms resting on either side of the boy. Harry's own draped over the blond. Neither wished to speak of the seriousness of their words nor of what had actually been said. It wasn't important right now to either of them.

Draco turned his head, noticing the small potion on the nightstand.

"Do you have to take that?"

* * *

When Ron and Hermione arrived at breakfast the next day they were surprised to find Harry already at the table, eating a large portion of scrambled eggs as he chatted with Ginny. The couple glanced at one another, unsure of just what exactly was going on. Really, this shouldn't be such an odd scene but Harry hadn't shown up to breakfast for at least a week and wasn't talking to any of them aside from one-syllable answers when prompted.

"Blaise, Ginny? Getting yourself your own Slytherin lover now, eh?"

"Well it seemed to work for you, Harry."

"Wait- Harry, you have a lover?" Harry's head jerked up at the sound of Ron's voice, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks at the insinuation. He turned back to his breakfast as though it were the most interesting thing in the world, shoveling in a large forkful of pancakes and muffling some incomprehensible answer to Ron's inquiry. Luckily, the redhead could only take one mystery at a time, the fact that his best friend was acting as he had two years ago the larger of the two.

"Are you feeling better, Harry?" Emerald eyes beamed back at Hermione, causing the girl to falter at the light that shone in Harry's eyes.

"I'd say so, Hermione. Thanks." The girl's throat choked up as she noticed the light tone of the boy's voice and the faint smile on his face remnant of his old happiness. Whatever happened last night, Hermione was glad it had. The bustle of morning conversation filled the hall as various subjects were talked about- mostly the celebration of Samhain later tonight. Ron chatted animatedly with Harry as though he hadn't seen the boy in years. In a sense, he hadn't. Neither of the two felt the need to explain and probably never would. It wasn't something that was particularly done in their relationship. The only important thing to Ron was that Harry was back to his old self again.

"Are ye' ready for the game t'day, 'Arry?" Seamus' lilting Irish voice rang out amongst the chatter. Harry's eyes flickered over to the Slytherin table to fall on the blond head. It didn't make any sense to Harry why he suddenly felt so much better, but he knew the Slytherin had something to do with it. It was as though just speaking of what happened last year lifted an enormous weight from his chest. Not only that, but the possessive words and heavy snogging helped quite a bit too. For once, it felt good to chat with his friends and to forget about what was inevitably coming. This wasn't to say that Harry was perfectly fine but he was certainly on the way to some sort of normalcy.

"You bet. I'm going to pound Malfoy into the ground." There was a chorus of cheers at Harry's declaration. Mercury eyes looked away from Blaise and across the hall to meet sparkling emerald. A smirk upturned both mouths. Ginny noticed the exchange, nearly choking on her juice as the realization of Harry's words dawned on the startled Gryffindor. Before she could say anything, Hermione leaned closer to Harry.

"Professor Black," Hermione paused after realizing she had said the last man's name which happened to be the same as Sirius'. She wasn't sure exactly how much better Harry was feeling, not wanting to send the boy back into his depression. Harry's smirk melted from his lips and an understanding set in his eyes. At this moment, Harry appeared so much older than he actually was.

"That is his name, Hermione. It's alright." He leaned closer to the Head Girl, his voice lowering. "He's related to Sirius." She knew it! Hermione's eyes lit up as she searched Harry's face for his thoughts. The faintest of smiles- a worn and tired expression that spoke of sorrow which would never fade- crossed Harry's lips and he merely nodded. Harry didn't want the memory of Sirius to fade, nor for it to be tainted with dread if even spoken. His godfather deserved better.

"Professor Black visited you in the infirmary. He seemed dreadfully worried, Harry. You may want to speak with him before the match this afternoon." Tugging on his lower lip with his teeth, Harry took in a deep breath. He knew this was coming. It was inevitable and had to be done; he couldn't just avoid the man. A strange sort of calm settled in his stomach. Harry was tired of the painful agony that went along with his avoidance of Sirius Black, thus Luminos. He nodded and thanked Hermione before excusing himself and leaving the Great Hall.

He needed to speak with their professor.

Just as Harry was rounding the corner leading to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, a slender hand pulled him into a dark corridor. Mouth open in defense, Harry's hand was already moving to his wand when he recognized the long, blond hair and manicured hand which seemed to be recently chewed.

"Pansy?" The girl looked about the corridor and nodded. Removing her hand from Harry's robes, the Slytherin girl crossed her arms over her chest as her eyes sparkled in the dim light. Confusion marring Harry's brow, he was about to speak when she cut him off.

"You're seeing Draco." Harry's eyes widened and he was about to adamantly deny anything when she merely waved her hand dismissively. "I already know, Potter. I don't care what preference you have or anything silly of that sort. Those things don't matter in Slytherin." Harry's confusion only grew. His heart was hammering in his chest despite himself at the thought of he and Draco being TOGETHER. They weren't... were they? No, they only got each other off and shagged at odd hours of the night. Yet he couldn't help the flurry of butterflies when his mind lingered on the idea of them being together, associated as one whole.

"More importantly, today is Samhain." Pansy looked up at Harry expectantly but this only bewildered him further. There was a heavy sigh as though she was talking to a child, and Pansy continued in a slower, overly articulate manner. "Tonight there is going to be a ceremony to determine on which side we all stand. Do you really believe Dumbledore to be the only one savvy to the natural power of Samhain's promises?"

"What are you trying to say, Pansy?" The girl glanced about again, as though waiting for someone to spring forth from the shadows in the hall and attack.

"I'm saying to protect what is yours, Potter." Harry's voice caught in the back of his throat. Pansy's eyes fluttered down, her gaze focusing on the floor as her brow creased. "It's what we all should do."

Before Harry could say anything more, the Slytherin girl slid past him and into the lit corridor.


	10. Sealed Fate

**Title:** One That Stood Alone 

**Author:** tsubasagahoushi

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco, Hermione/Ron, Luminos(OC)?

**Disclaimer:** I am a poor, poor college student who does not own anything... much less the rights to these characters. Those are all the great genius of J.K. Rowling and the respective publishers...

**Warning:** **This fic contants male/male smut!** If this does not tickle your fancy, leave now and forever wonder what you're missing.

**A/N:** So sorry guys for this taking so long. This chapter has given me the most trouble, having to be re-worked and changed about three times. There's been some major change in plot and this Samhain dealie is going to be even bigger than I had planned it to be, so sorry if it seems to be dragging; I really don't mean to and hate when stories drag so believe me-the next chapter will bring serious action. Thanks to linda, kabear, chronoclockxvii, potty-em, volleypickle16, and malevolence for the reviews! They help me write; I swear. Hope you all enjoy this chapter.

* * *

Harry paused in his stride into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom when he recognized the black figure ahead of him. The person turned, lips pursed and eyebrows narrowed. Professor Snape did not appear to be altogther too pleased.

"Professor..."

"You will return to your previously scheduled appointments with Black beginning next week. I will not teach a student who fails to produce a patronus even in his seventh year." Before Harry could retort, the door to Luminos' office atop the stairs opened as he angrily stepped from his room, annoyance clear on his face when he noticed the Potions professor.

"Severus, what are you doing in my classro... Harry!" All traces of resentment melted away from the man's voice as he then noticed the messy haired Gryffindor who was also occupying the room. He was down the stairs in mere moments and next to the raven haired boy, nervously looking him over for any signs of injury. "Harry, are you alright? Have you rested?" Confused as to why Snape was there and his sudden refusal to teach him, Luminos' genuine concern only added to Harry's puzzlement. There was such anguish in Luminos' vibrant blue eyes he immediately stuttered out an affirmative to both questions without really understanding what was going on. The metamorphmagus let out a long sigh, turning to glare at the Potions professor.

"What do you want, Severus?" Snape's expression was a mask of indifference, causing Harry's curiousity and confusion to only heighten. Professor Snape normally would be angered, annoyed, verbal in some way at Luminos' actions. Yet the man seemed to wear no emotion on his face, not even meeting the heated glare from the Dark Arts professor.

"You heard me, Potter." Head held high, Snape strode past the two. Too many questions plagued his brain without a plausible answer to any of them. What did Luminos and Snape have to do with one another? Something was obviously between the two and-

"Professor Snape, wait." The receding footsteps stopped before reaching the door. Harry slowly turned so that he could see both men at once. "Can't the both of you train me?" There was silence before both men began to protest. Harry cut them off, his words killing anything they had to say. "I need as much insight into Voldemort as possible."

Luminos visibly winced, taking several steps away from Harry as if wounded. Snape quickly processed what Harry's words meant before storming to the front of the classroom, robes billowing dangerously about his person and a gleam in his eye that rivaled any predatory anger Harry had ever seen in the man.

"Potter, you have not told anyone about Luminos, have you?" The words were low and controlled, yet there was something deeper behind them. Harry faced the Potions Master directly without flinching, despite the initimidating shadow falling across him. Even with his growth spurt, Professor Snape still managed to loom over him just as he did in first year. Only now Harry was able to read the man a bit more, understand the intricacies in his speech pattern and body language to recognize when he was genuinely pissed off.

"No, professor." Snape's nostrils flared and he glared down from his long, angled nose at Harry. Green eyes glanced at Luminos then back at Snape, confusion slowly forming into a semblance of possible explanations. "I wouldn't have told anyone he's a..." It occurred to Harry he didn't know for sure that Luminos was a spy or not, but whatever he was Dumbledore already knew. The man knew everything that went on in Hogwarts, the mischievous twinkle holding much more than boyish fun. "...whatever he is." Luminos dropped his gaze to the floor as he seemed to gather himself against the remark.

"One would think you would show more respect to someone who has risked himself for years at your expense, Potter." The words hissed from Snape's lips like a snake about to strike. "Merlin forbid that you do not know everythi-"

"That's enough, Severus." Luminos placed a hand on Snape's shoulder, gently but firmly pulling the man away from Harry. "It's alright. He needs to know. He deserves to know." Snape bit his tongue, regarding the other man with complete silence. They held one another's gaze for seconds before Luminos nodded once. Snape breathed in deeply, clearly restraining himself from verbally chastising Harry once more. The coal black eyes regarded Harry again before the billowing figure of Severus Snape turned on his heel and left the room.

The sound of the door closing echoed quietly in the still room. Luminos let out a breath, rubbing at his temple with one hand. Harry's brows furrowed in thought, as though something had been shown for him that he should have noticed but still eluded him.

"You don't have to hear me out. You can walk out on me right now and tell everyone what you know." The somber expression on the man's face was disrupted with a raise of the lip and a wink. "But then you wouldn't be able to hear all the sordid details, now would you?" He took a deep breath before gesturing up the stairs to his office. "It's a long, dramatic tale of an absolute fool which requires a good amount of tea," he smirked again"or stronger stuff, to properly tell. My office"

Harry's lips tugged upwards ever so slightly before he nodded, following the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for the truth.

* * *

It glittered in the distance, the sun reflecting off its golden surface. Harry jerked his broom to the right, avoiding a bludger which had been sent his way by Goyle. The snitch fluttered in the distance and his eyes narrowed against the wind blowing sharply at his face as he plummeted to the grass after the elusive ball. Reaching one hand out in efforts to catch the snitch, the other holding his broom steady, Harry felt the gossamer wings batting against his fingertips. If he could just...

"Honestly, Potter, do you really think I'd let you win that easily?" Harry was knocked in the side by Malfoy, causing him to grasp his broom with both hands in order to right it so that he didn't hit the ground at a most unpleasant rate. Pulling the broom tightly upwards, he darted higher, heading back for his lookout position atop the field; the snitch was gone for now. Avoiding several more bludgers targeted at him, he only stopped when he was some hundred feet above the field. It was a clear day so he was able to see the game progress, but there was no way Goyle was going to be able to send anymore bludgers his way without the attack being obvious.

The blond head was soon at his level once more, Malfoy curiously close for usual matches. Anyone below would simply think the Slytherin boy was waiting to follow Harry for the snitch, blind to the conversation that began.

"Goyle sure is fiesty today, isn't he?" There was a light, almost sing-song tone in Draco's voice and Harry merely grunted in response. It was only twenty minutes into the game and he had already been attacked by nearly thirty bludgers from the Slytherin beast. When Malfoy didn't continue with any more witty commentary, Harry glanced over at the boy from the corner of his eye. At first he thought Malfoy was just looking for the snitch, but then noticed the path of the boy's cold, mercury gaze. It followed a number thirty-one-Gregory Goyle. Contrary to his light tone, the blond Slytherin seemed to be glaring so harshly at his fellow teammate it seemed he was attempting a mental Avada Kedavra.

"It's nothing I can't handle." Jerked from his attempt to simply will Goyle into oblivion, Draco raised a brow to look over at the Gryffindor Golden Boy. Harry's hair was messier than normal, the wind currently blowing it about his face and into his eyes, causing the boy to wrinkle his nose and give a shake of his head in efforts to displace the offending strands. The smirk on his lips remained the whole while. Malfoy raised one elegant brow before raking his eyes over Harry in a most obvious manner.

"Yes, you are quite good with balls, aren't you, Potter?" This sent a slight blush to warm the raven haired boy's already flushed cheeks, but his smirk remained.

"Never had any complaints." Draco rubbed his chin in thought before giving a shrug of his shoulders; no, he had no complaints. This morning he had felt awful, sitting in his room as though he had taken several bludgers to the head and was left with not much else to do but stare at the blank walls. It had only been when Pansy and Blaise came for him, insisting he come to breakfast at least for show-the Quidditch game against Gryffindor WAS today, afterall-that he had snapped himself from his spiraling descent into the darkness of his mind, which insisted on playing several different possibilities of tonight's 'ceremony.' Which was tonight, in a few mere hours. In the Forbidden Forest to be precise. Exactly 11:30 so that the ceremony could take place at the peak of power, right before the day ended and yielded its innate magic.

"Malfoy?" He realized he had been staring at the dark forest, now turning his attention back to his rival seeker. Harry didn't know what to say. He wanted to ask what was wrong but that sounded odd; too childish and naive. Now that Draco was looking at him, he couldn't seem to gather any words which didn't sound accusatory, annoying, or pleading. Pansy's warning had haunted him the entire day, only now hitting him once again at full force. Of course, Dumbledore wouldn't be the only one to swear those into his allegiance on such an important day. Voldemort was going to bring new inniates into his ranks, and it had only occurred to Harry now that he didn't know where Draco stood.

There was a rush of silver and green past his face. It took Harry mere seconds to spot the shining golden ball which Draco had sped after. Cursing under his breath, he flew after the blond head as fast as he could. Weaving in out of the players, he could just reach Draco's torso but the snitch was mere centimeters away from the Slytherin's outstretched hand. He was going to lose. He wouldn't make it in time. The snitch darted down suddenly, aiming once more for the grass. Harry closed that part of his mind off, that part which instinctively told him how to fly, how to speed up or slow down, and he freefell.

Gravity, you see, is a much more effective way of falling from an extreme height. It is much faster than any speed he could get on a broom, and it was gravity which sent him past Malfoy. He caught a glimmer of shock and something else in Draco's mercury eyes as the Slytherin seemed to notice that Harry had stopped flying altogether. The only problem with allowing gravity to bring you down from an extreme height was that it was damned near impossible to stop before you smashed into the ground.

Flashing emerald eyes remained on the snitch every second, the wind rushing so loudly in his ears he didn't hear the crowd's screams. So loudly he didn't hear the warning from Ginny. His focus so narrowed, he didn't see the bludger barreling towards him. He let out a gasped cry as it rammed into his side, shattering his ribs and causing lights to dance before his eyes. The stands rushed by him as the grass grew ever closer. Stretching one hand forward, Harry winced at the pain this caused in his torso. Something was tearing, ripping, breaking. The snitch fluttered a breath away and he was still freefalling. Still freefalling... he pushed all the speed of his broom into the freefall, sending the snitch into his hand just as the smell of the dirt and grass filled his nostrils.

There were screams and cries. Harry took in a shattered breath, clenching his eyes tightly shut against the pain which pierced his side. He lifted his arm against all protest of his body. The crowd silenced, several sobs and murmured whispers still heard throughout the stadium. Opening his hand, there was an eruption of cheers as the small, golden snitch fluttered delicately in Harry's palm. Madame Hooch blew the whistle. The game was over and Gryffindor won. Harry smiled before his arm fell and the throbbing in his head took over.

* * *

_It was dark and there was a particular smell which stung his nose, familiar and nauseating but unable to be placed exactly. A light illuminated the room and he wished it hadn't. There were crumpled bodies strewn about and it was then that he was able to identify the smell; dried pools of congealing blood._

_"He has fooled me for far too long." The man kneeled before him, silver-blond hair cascading over his shoulder._

_"Who, my lord?" There was a throaty laugh._

_"You know exactly who, Lucius. Do not play a fool."_

_"Yes, my lord. Forgive me, my lord." He knelt near one of the bodies, the stained robe of an Auror the only identification. The pale hand danced along the face, a middle-aged wizard who had tried to lead his small team of subordinates near his domain. Foolish._

_"Perhaps I should be rid of him tonight. I am, afterall, gaining a much more useful informant in his place." Lucius remained silent, head bowed. "Yes," it was the quiet hiss of a snake. There was silence before he stood, heading towards the door. " I do not suffer betrayal well, Lucius. You already know that."_

_His head bowed further, voice remaining controlled and subserviant,"Yes, my lord."_

_"I do hope he doesn't disappoint me. I only wish to deal with one traitor tonight." There was icy amusement in his voice as he planned the pain which would meet the one who dared to betray him this long._

_"Understood, my lord." A twisted turning of the lips and he hissed in approval._

_"Be rid of these." A gesture at the strewn corpses to the figure in the corner led Wormtail into the small light in the room. He readily accepted his task and bowed. "Come, Lucius. There is more that must be done."_

Harry's eyes snapped open and he groaned, clenching them tight against the bright sterile light of the infirmary.

"Harry? Harry, are you alright?" Hermione's voice filtered into his brain but the memories of Voldemort were too new. He felt sick. He had the disturbing sensation that he knew who they were speaking of as their 'new informant'. Pushing himself up, Harry proceeded to swing his legs over the side of the bed despite every cry from his body. Aside from the dread coiling in his gut at the unsaid name, he knew that either Luminos or Snape were in danger. He had to warn them. "Harry! Stop! You have to rest. Harry..." There were arms around him and Hermione's face was in his chest. "Harry, please..."

He stopped in his effort to leave the room. His scar throbbed, the numb pain stinging at his eyes. Yet his heart was pounding furiously with the the panic of what he knew. Voldemort was going to get rid of the spy. He had felt the perverse joy at the thought. He had even been able to feel some of the things the Dark Lord planned for them; traitors were not dealt with lightly. Hermione was pressed against him and he felt her sobbing. It was only then he realized his head was bandaged along with his torso. Looking down at his friend, Harry closed his eyes against the wetness he felt against his chest. He knew he had been avoiding both Hermione and Ron for some time now-really since Sirius' death. Something was obviously going on yet he still couldn't face it. Not now. Not when he had to warn them. Not when the possibility of the new informant being Draco plagued his mind.

"At least take the potions Pomfrey left for you." Hermione let go of him and wiped at her face, masking her emotions into her mature Head Girl appearance once more. Harry regarded the girl standing before him. Her eyes seemed tired, small bags under them slowly appearing as though a glamour charm was wearing off. Her hair was far more frazzled than usual, her hands slightly shaking as she wiped once more at her tear-stained cheeks. He took each potion after another in several gulps, far too used to their horrid taste for it to bother him.

Before Hermione saw it coming, Harry had pulled her back into the hug, this one far more gentle and less desperate. He stroked her hair lightly with one hand. "Hermione, I'm sorry. I just..."

"Harry, you can tell me anything. Anytime. I want to know what's wrong." How could he tell her? How could he explain what he didn't know himself? He and Malfoy... Harry didn't know what exactly they were and the thought scared him; he wasn't sure he wanted to know. He hadn't intended for anything this big when he started. It had just been a way of sparking himself alive; it had been a sort of game. The game had taken a treacherous turn. He tightened his arms about the small girl and let his face fall against her shoulder.

"I know, 'Mione." Pulling back from the embrace, Harry wiped at Hermione's cheek with his thumb. "I want to tell you. I do. But I don't even understand most of it yet. I don't want you and Ron to get caught up in things anymore than you already have and..." He trailed off as he spotted the redhead entering the infirmary just as the potions seemed to kick in, piercing his torso like a thousand stabbing wounds.

"Hermione, I checked with Seamus and he's in-Harry? Harry!" Harry grinned despite the pain as he pulled away from Hermione. He didn't want either of them to notice or else he'd never be allowed out of the infirmary. "You're awake! That dive you took... It was bloody brilliant! I thought you were just going to smash right into the ground but you managed to pull up enough to roll off. Fancy that, and you were able to keep the snitch! Fantastic, Harry, really it-" Hermione elbowed him roughly and he changed his excitement into mock authority, "But you really shouldn't have done that, mate. It was mad. Far too dangerous." A short laugh escaped Harry's lips despite himself and, taking Ron by surprise, he wrapped the redhead in a brief hug.

"Thanks, Ron." Stepping past the both of them, he smirked at the confused look on Ron's face. His muscles clenched and unclenched in agony as they began to mend themselves where the bludger had done damage. "I'll meet you guys before the dance tonight in Hermione's room." Hermione nodded, taking Ron's hand in hers. With a small bow of his head, a genuine smile graced his lips before he turned and fled from the infirmary before they noticed the sweat gathering on his forehead.

He was heading towards Snape's office without understanding exactly why. He knew one of them, either Snape or Luminos, were in danger and if he told the latter he'd have to explain everything. Snape knew his visions of Voldemort were always right, and his oddly protective nature of Luminos would be enough to cover both of them. Opening the door to the Potions Master's office without knocking in his hurried state, he froze when he caught the conversation going on in the room.

"He deserved every bloody last one! He was going after Harry on purpose and I don't sodding care what the Snake Beast is going to think of it! Let the betraying bastard cry to his pathetic excuse for a master!"

"He won't be reporting back to Voldemort anytime soon what with the hexing you put him through; you should be more concerned about using an Unforgiv- Potter what are you doing in my room?" Harry's breath came in ragged gasps, his arm wrapped about his torso. The potions had to be stronger than the average remedy Pomfrey gave him; he could still feel his bones mending themselves and muscles reforming. It wasn't pleasant.

Both Draco and Snape were looking at him now, the silence hanging heavy in the small office. Harry closed his eyes against the stabs of pain, gasping in several more breaths. "Potter, you should be in the infimary-"

"Voldemort..." This stopped any protest from either Slytherin. Harry forced his eyes open, leaning against the doorframe for support. "Had a vision... Snape... you and Lu..." He glanced at Draco, remembering exactly what had been said. There was a new informant... it very well could be Draco... He suddenly felt sick and desperately clung to anything and everything residing in his stomach.

"Harry, sit down." There were arms on him but he shook them off when he recognized the smooth hands.

"Let go of me, Malfoy." Draco froze. Harry forced himself to look at Snape only, pushing aside his notions about Draco for now. He had been able to feel Voldemort's emotions and there had been a twisted hunger at the thought of the new informant. Then a flash of Hogwarts in the Dark Lord's mind. It was too much to risk now. But Draco was here, talking with Snape about something. Surely he knew that the man was a spy? Even if he didn't, would Draco really join Voldemort's ranks? Somewhere inside Harry wondered why he wouldn't. It wasn't as though there was anything keeping him from it; it seemed to be the blond's destiny.

Severus glanced between the two boys who now stood in his doorway, Draco running his hand through his hair in worry while Potter seemed on the verge of words but refused to say anything. Something had obviously happened to bring the Gryffindor to his door and it didn't look as though he would say anything about it in front of Draco.

"Malfoy, if you would give Potter and I a moment." Draco had been looking at Harry the entire time, wondering if he knew. It was impossible, wasn't it? How could the raven haired boy have found out about tonight? Besides that, something kept him there wanting to help the shaking form before him. Draco had been shocked when he saw Harry plummeting to the ground during Quidditch, but when Goyle beat the bludger at him there had been an emotion so raw and terrifying that Draco didn't want to face it. He had thought Harry was going to die then.

"But, Sev-"

"Now." Draco bit back his tongue, slamming the door shut behind him. The silence was only disrupted by Harry's heavy breathing. The potions seemed to be wearing off, but his body was still pretty pissed about the sudden run over. There was a potion handed to him and he looked up to see Snape merely nod. Harry took it, letting out a breath as it worked its way through his body numbing the pain.

"What did you see, Potter?"

"Voldemort... he killed several Aurors. He was speaking with Lucius Malfoy about a spy, about getting rid of him. How he would no longer be needed now that..." His voice trailed off.

"Now that what?"

"Now that he was going to have a new informant." His throat was locking up, his body shaking now not because of a physical blow. Why hadn't he thought of it sooner? It very well could be Draco... why else would Voldemort be speaking directly to Lucius Malfoy concerning it? Typically when he was thrown into Voldemort's mind it was Wormtail that had been his right hand man. It could just be a shift in the ranks but there was something heavy in Harry's chest that told him otherwise. It was what he followed whenever he was in danger, that little voice in the back of his mind that warned him of what was going to come before it did. This time, he didn't want to listen. Emotionless, he said, "It could be either you or Luminos. I... thought you should know."

Snape regarded Harry in silence. He had warned Draco about this. Nothing good would come of his relations with Potter. Whether the Gryffindor knew entirely who the new iniate Voldemort spoke of was, he would find out soon enough.

"I'll be sure to alert Black. One can never be too cautious concerning the Dark Lord." The entire time the thought had never occurred to Harry. But Draco had known about the attack on Hogsmeade. Even though he came to help him, he knew before it happened. He had been tied to Voldemort all along. All of this... whatever it was that was forming between them was his coveted information to feed to Voldemort. His eyes stung and he nodded once, turning to leave before his emotions betrayed him.

"It is best not to make assumptions, Potter." Harry looked up at the man, a glimmer of hope in his emerald eyes. Snape cursed at the memories those eyes evoked within him. He would not assume the role to let Potter know of Draco's decision; that was up to his godson to take care of. He waved dismissively at the Gryffindor standing in his doorway like a lost pup. "There are things I need to do. You are excused, Potter."

"Yes, sir." Unsure of anything, Harry turned and left the Potions professor.

* * *

"You told him, didn't you, Pansy." The Slytherin girl tensed, covering it up with feigned nonchalance. Blaise sat in the armchair near the fireplace, watching the drama from a distance. Draco had called them both to his rooms, claiming that he needed to ask them something. Both knew it couldn't be good; Draco never sent immediate owls to wherever you were at any part of the day saying he needed to 'talk'.

"I don't know whatever it is you mean, Draco love." There was a low growl from the blond's throat causing both of his friends to freeze, calculating just how angry he was over once more. The glass he had been drinking from shattered against the wall behind Pansy but she did not flinch. Instead she met the heated glare of Draco Malfoy head on.

"Don't sodding tell me you don't know, Pansy! It was either you or Blaise, and seeing as how Blaise was snogging the Weasel-"

"Her name's Ginny." Blaise shrugged his shoulders when Draco glared at him for the comment, getting comfortable in his chair knowing he wasn't the focus of the anger and not wanting to be anytime soon. "Or Weasel.. Weasel works."

"That only leaves one person who knows what's going to happen tonight. Or did you not think I would find out?" She glanced down at this, not even a second of hesitation but it was enough for Draco to know. She hadn't. At least not this soon. Gritting his teeth he was about to say something he would probably regret later when there was a knock on his portrait.

"Oh bloody fucking hell who is that? Did you notify someone else of my initation tonight? Will Dumbledore be there to see me off?" He tore back the portrait only for every furious fibre of his being to sizzle into complete shock. Harry Potter stood at his door, a determined look on his face in the set of his jaw, the ferocity of his shining eyes.

"Get out, the both of you." Draco never took his eyes off Harry as he addressed the fellow Slytherins in his room. Pansy walked past him, head held high without so much as a glance at either boy. Blaise sauntered over, winking at Harry before stepping out of the room. Draco moved aside, allowing for Harry to enter. The portrait closed silently behind them both, enclosing them in the lavish room alone.

Draco forced himself to assume a relaxed demeanor. Sauntering over to the sofa, he fell back into it, casually looking at his nails. "How can I help you, Potter?"

"I need to know." Draco stopped, regarding the raven haired boy. He stood in the middle of the room, only a bit away from the door as though he was ready to leave any minute. Looking away, Draco ran a hand through his hair. Stay calm. Stay calm; just because you're overly aware of what's going on today doesn't mean that Potter knows. You don't know what he was told exactly so give absolutely nothing away.

"You're nervous." Draco opened his mouth to object but Harry's expression stopped all words from forming. The boy looked at him from across the room, his lips slowly turned upwards in the illusion of happiness but his eyes telling a completely different story. He looked tired and withdrawn, as though someone had just left him out in the cold all night. As though... as though he was afraid of asking what they both already knew.

"Honestly, Potter, why would I be nervous in my own rooms?" Harry smirked, causing a shiver to travel down Draco's spine. People said Harry Potter's smile was one of the best in the world, able to melt any heart. But it was his smirk that caused Draco to hesitate. Not many people saw it and there was something distinctively... Slytherin about it.

Standing from the sofa, he made his way over to the boy. His head was still bandaged but it seemed whatever Harry had been going through in Snape's office had passed. He only stopped when he was mere breaths away from the Gryffindor. "Really, you don't need an excuse if you want to see me."

Harry's breath caught at the proximity of Draco's body. He had wandered the castle without knowing where to go, who to talk to about the situation. It was too much to explain to anyone, he wasn't even sure if Hermione would be able to understand. The fact that he wasn't sure in his thoughts ate away at him. There was a hopeful voice somewhere inside that resisted all logic, insisting that he hadn't really found out anything one way or another yet. Draco's hands were in his hair, gently touching at the bandages around his head where it had met the ground this afternoon. His body responded to the light touch, eyes fluttering closed.

Lips were on his, arms wrapping gently about him. This was different. Usually they were desperate in their actions but this... Harry sighed into the kiss, deepening it as his tongue flicked at Draco's upper lip. The boy moaned against him, the slight caress growing into a heated pressing of lips against one another, tongues dueling as hands grasped the other boy's body in turn. Draco was so worried about Harry it scared him. He tried to tell himself he didn't care about Harry Potter. He didn't...

"Draco..." The blond pulled back from him, moving down to his neck to bite and kiss the sensitive skin. "No... Draco..." The image of red eyes filled Harry's mind. The dream he had nights ago, the dreams that had plagued him for weeks of Draco leaving him. Draco betraying him. Draco being taken away, killed, tortured... "Stop."

Draco paused in his adoration, closing his eyes against what he knew came next. He didn't want it to be said. He couldn't explain to Harry that what he was doing... that what was going to happen was for the sodding git himself. He couldn't tell him the real reason behind his initiation because there was still a part of Draco that refused to admit the feelings to himself. There was the ever mistrustful voice which constantly told him it was a weakness; anyone who knew that he cared had something against him.

"Are you..." Harry pulled himself away from the blond, his back brushing against the portrait door behind him. Both stood still as his words trailed off into nothing. The accusations were caught in Harry's throat, unwilling to be asked for fear of the answer. He had been dead this entire time. He realized it wasn't just when Sirius fell through the veil; sure, that was the final event that drove him over but Harry Potter was dying the moment he found out who he was. Locked away for eleven years, he only wanted to be let out and to be free. It had all been a rouse, this false freedom of the wizarding world. He had gone from one cage to the next and this one was slowly smothering him, choking the air from his lungs for their own survival. That had been fine once he found out about the prophecy, once Sirius was gone and his future with the man. Harry hadn't cared about anything after fifth year until...

"No." Emerald eyes pierced Draco as though trying to search his soul, desperately seeking out any lie in his words. But Draco left none there for Harry to see. Afterall, Malfoys were enigmas, the masters of lies. Draco had heard the dramatic tales of emotional awakenings in which the person goes through a journey and struggle to find the truth finally at the end. It would all happen in a life-altering moment, this magnificent flourish of words, thoughts, and strife. It wasn't that way in reality. It hadn't knocked into him, shocking him with the truth. There was no joyous epiphany; in fact, he almost wished he hadn't realized.

He loved Potter. He didn't know why and it didn't matter. He knew it as certain as he knew the answer to Harry's unfinished question. Draco Malfoy loved Harry Potter, leaving him only one option. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging on the silvery strands. Harry couldn't know.

Draco closed in, trapping the raven haired boy with his body. When Harry had stopped flying in Quidditch earlier... It had occurred to him then. Despite how much he tried to avoid it, despite how many times he told himself it was a fleeting emotion that he didn't need... His heart had plummeted with the raven haired boy towards the grass of the pitch.

A slender, pale hand traced the contours of the Gryffindor's face, cupping the side as he closed the space between them. He dove into the other boy, tongues twisting and sliding against one another. There was a gasp, neither knowing from who it came and not really caring. Harry pulled Draco closer, fingers grasping the strands of silken silver hair at the base of the Slytherin's neck. Biting at the soft pink flesh, the blond loudly moaned into Harry's mouth.

"Harry..." Pulling away from the kiss, a smirk played across Harry's lips as he slid from his position between Draco and the door. Pulling the puzzled boy by the green and silver tie, he pressed his lips against the other's once more. This time it was harder, a deeper exploration and possession. Harry backed his way into the room, keeping them pressed together the entire time. He only stopped when he reached the familiar door, pushing it open with his back.

There were pale hands over his, somehow not as rough even with similar years of Quidditch. Draco's breath was heavy as he glanced at his bedroom behind the Gryffindor. The mercury eyes narrowed in thought, reaching their decision as he pushed Harry into the dark room. Hands tore at clothing, disregarded in a mess as both moved where their bodies desired. The blond hesitated once more, hands on Harry's trousers. His gaze held the Gryffindor in place, his voice steady and firm in declaration, "I will never hurt you."

A smile flickered across Harry's lips, and he reached out for the boy. The Slytherin sighed into the kiss as though relieved, accepted. Turning in a half circle, they remained joined the entire time. Pushing the shirtless Slytherin onto the bed, the smile melded into a smirk as Harry noted the mild shock at the sudden act. Sliding his tongue against his lips, Harry slowly finished unzippering his trousers, slipping the material off one hip then the next. Draco took in Harry's arousal as he stood before him, his own straining against the silk and cotton restraints.

Crawling atop the blond, Harry kissed his way down the slender neck, down the hairless chest to take in one of the hardening nipples. Draco bucked beneath him, his erection pressing against Harry's ass. Biting his lip, he cried out and arched upwards when Harry's teeth bit down on the sensitive flesh. Growling, he rolled the Gryffindor over to reverse their positions.

Harry grimaced when his bruised ribs protested as he hit the bed. Draco paused in his position over him, hands flickering down to the bandaged torso. "Are you alright?" Pulling the Slytherin against him in response, Harry disregarded the minor pain from the bruises; this was so much more important.

Kicking his trousers off, Draco tore at the cotton of Harry's boxers. Licking his lips appreciatively, he took the boy in his mouth eliciting a cry from the Gryffindor. Harry's breath came in heavy gasps, his head thrown to the side when he noticed the blade glinting on the nightstand in the faint light from the common room. Clenching his eyes shut as the muscles in his abdomen tightened, Harry thrust into the warm mouth around him. Once, then again, and again as the blond's tongue swirled about his head then teased his cock. With one last buck upwards he came with a strangled cry, his muscles spasming with the orgasm.

Draco crawled upwards, dropping next to the Gryffindor. Pushing back the strands of hair which were stuck to Harry's forehead with sweat, he kissed the boy's temple then whispered in his ear, "Done already?"

Emerald eyes opened to glitter back at him, an eyebrow quirking up in challenge. "You wish." Rolling atop the blond, Harry leaned down to bite and suck at the soft skin of his throat. Rocking slowly atop the Slytherin boy, his lips traced the collarbone, nipping and biting at the flesh to elicit the desired moan from the blond.

"Harry... Harry, I want you," Draco gasped between the teasing nibbles from the teeth assaulting him. Shining emerald eyes looked up at him, a slightly puzzled shimmer in their depths. A blush stained his pale cheeks despite himself, his breath heavy as the strain in his boxers grew ever more desperate. He opened his mouth to speak, not wanting to have to say what exactly it was he wanted from the raven haired boy over him. There was a flash of teeth in the dark as Harry's lips spread into a wicked grin.

Sliding up the expanse of chest beneath him, Harry's lips brushed against the swollen lips as his hand snaked into the silk boxers below. There was a rush of air into his mouth, Draco responding to the kiss as Harry began to massage the heat under him. Pulling away from the kiss, he lightly trailed a path to Draco's ear. "Tonight you're mine."

Draco's cock twitched at the huskiness in the Gryffindor's voice, refusing to come simply at Potter's words. Harry's hand tightened around him and he gasped, arching into the touch. Removing his hand from the Slytherin, Harry deftly removed the boxers to toss them off the bed. His own hardness pressed against Draco's now and both boys gasped at the intimacy.

Grinning like the chesire cat, Harry slid one hand lower between the clefts of Draco's ass. The boy gasped beneath him when he felt the finger at his entrance, slowly tracing smooth circles as it burrowed deeper. Rocking his body deeper into the fingers, it caused the needed friction between their cocks resulting in an overload of sensations. Biting his lip, Draco pulled Harry into a deep kiss, his tongue plunging into the boy's mouth like his fingers were inside him. Their speed grew, tongues dancing and fingers twisting inside. Harry slid his digits out, lifting Draco's legs over his shoulders as he positioned himself at the warmth.

"Bloody hell, Potter, what are you waiting for?" Grinning, Harry pushed into the boy beneath him causing Draco to cry out. He hesitated, the sweat glistening on the blond's forehead as he adjusted to the welcome invasion. He pushed himself against Harry giving him the sign, Harry pushing the rest of the way until he was seated deeply within Draco. He didn't even realize he had cried out along with Draco at the sudden tightness around his cock.

Grasping Draco's erection, he pulled out and thrust back in, causing another series of shouts. The rhythm continued, Harry speeding up as the friction grew. The tightness was wonderful, driving him mad. He hadn't known it would feel this way, this complete and whole. His thrusts became faster as he began to lose control. Spotting the metal glint in the light on the bedstand, he pumped Draco in time with his thrusts. Faster and faster still, the slapping sounds of flesh on flesh only adding to the heightened arousal of it all. Reaching for the knife on the stand, Harry flipped it so that it sunk into the skin of his wrist. It bit deeply into his flesh and he bit his lip with the familiar sensation of blood trickling down with that of the heat surrounding him.

Continuing to pump Draco in time with his thrusts, he desperately clung to the threads of thought which fueled his actions. Pressing his wrist to the blond's mouth, Draco drank in the other's essence as he rode the waves of pleasure. The taste of Harry's blood mixed with his cum, the power of it all nearly sending him over the edge.

"_Contego de Malum,_" Harry whispered as Draco drank from his wrist. His plan carried out, he gave into his body's immediate demands as he thrust into Draco faster and deeper. Harry hit Draco's prostate causing the blond beneath him to come in his hand.

Leaning down to catch the boy's mouth with his, his final thrusts sent him over the edge and he deeply moaned into the boy's mouth with his release. His body shook with the last shocks of his orgasm before he pulled out of the boy beneath him, falling on top of him. Closing his eyes, his ear pressed against Draco's chest as he listened to the steady beat of his heart as he too came down from his orgasm.

Seconds passed into minutes as minutes ticked by, the two lying with one another in calm silence. This time it wasn't heavy with anger, accusation or arousal and they enjoyed it. Harry was pressed against Draco's side, arm thrown over the other boy when a hand began to play in his hair.

"I don't think we have time..." Draco sighed, briefly kissing the raven haired boy for spoiling the moment.

"What are you wearing tonight?" Harry's eyes flickered in thought and Draco groaned, this time not in pleasure. "Honestly, Potter, you're the center of attention in Hogwarts; one would think you'd at least give some sort of thought to your wardrobe."

"Back to surnames are we, Malfoy?" Rolling his eyes, Draco slipped from the bed.

"Harry darling, love, do clean yourself up before you leave." Harry smirked, raising his brows at the boy standing at the edge of the bed.

"There might be some time..." Smirking, Draco headed towards his bathroom with an extra swing in his step. Left alone in the bedroom, Harry's grin faded from his lips as he watched the slender back retreat.

"I said I'd protect you." Moving from the bed, he unwrapped the bandages on the way. Afterall, he wouldn't want them getting wet.


End file.
